Harry Potter and the Flaming Prince
by eostaera
Summary: Eons ago, a war began between two demon clans. Thus was formed tears, blood, and a child. Now, the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Can Harry defeat them and find love? HarryOMC NON MS
1. Happy Birthday

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 1: Happy birthday.  
Harry

July 29

Little Winging, Surrey

11:12 PM

The night sky was filled with dark clouds that drenched the street in an almost surreal kind of darkness. It seemed all decent people were asleep and resting comfortably in their soft fluffy beds located in their similarly square houses. All except one; a 15-year-old boy living in number four Privet Drive. He had unconsciously flung off his covers in an attempt to cool his sweat-drenched body. His jet-black hair stuck to his forehead but not enough to hide the strikingly familiar scar. That night, like so many nights before, the young wizard Harry Potter was having a nightmare.

_He had to hurry or they would find him. Find them. The low branches cut into his face and tore at his short, light-brown hair but he hardly noticed them. All he knew was that he needed to run faster, hit harder, and be smarter than The Others. He thought that it was all over. The Others had promised! They had- _

_Suddenly he ran into something hard but soft, a human body. "No!" He cried out in fear and despair as he shielding the bundle of cloth in his arms from any possible danger. The stranger grabbed his arms seemingly trying to hold him still. Only when he heard his name did the boy look up. He stopped struggling and just stared._

But it couldn't be. He was dead! He saw Them murder him! Not waiting for a response the other man pulled him in for the sweetest kiss he had ever experienced. Without realizing it tears started falling down the boy's dirty, scratched cheeks. They were together again. He never wanted those strong arms to let him go.

Without warning he felt something grating his insides coming through right below his package, propelling him forward into the other man's chest again. The look in his lover eyes made him want to comfort him. To tell him it was all right. He had only seen that look once before and he had promised himself that he would never cause it again. Those were his last thoughts as the darkness consumed him.  


Harry woke up with a start, lurching into an upright position. He had to cover his mouth so he wouldn't scream. The tears came quickly enough. They always did, after all. He leaned against the headboard in resignation. Why was this happening every night? After the year he had, he'd expected to have disturbing dreams but not these. He had expected dreams about... someone else.

He cried harder and hugged his knees to his chest as the memories came flooding back. He remembered what had happened, where he was, and most importantly, where he was not. He wasn't at the Burrow playing wizard chess with Ron Weasley. He wasn't studying a ridiculously hard potion with Hermione Granger. But most importantly he wasn't at his school. Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry. That's where he and his friends learned to make it in the real world as true wizards and witches. Whatever the hell that means. He wanted to be in any of those places more than anything. But he was here, in a house where his own family didn't even want him.

Not that this was anything new. Vernon and Petunia Dursley had always detested him. The only time either of them showed him any kind of consideration was when his aunt had demanded he stay with them after he had all but hexed them both. They had deserved it mind you but that was beside the point.

The only amusement Harry had had all summer was when his annoying cousin Dudley kept running out of the room when he walked into them. And it was especially cool to see Dudley try to keep his friends from going down any street where he saw Harry walking. This had happened on more than one occasion in the last month. The overly fat teen hadn't even invited his friends over yet. Harry guessed he thought the boy would attack them all thinking his new best friend, Mad-Eye Moody, would blow them up or turn them into a horse or something if they didn't let the young wizard hex them senseless.

These memories cheered him up slightly to where he wasn't crying anymore. He hadn't even noticed he stopped. Once he trusted his legs enough, he thought a midnight snack was in order. Being as quiet as possible, Harry made his way down the stairs and into the anally clean kitchen. For the last few weeks, he had been doing most of his goings-on at night, when the others were asleep. Everyone seemed happier with the arrangement. Harry didn't really mind. It was just quieter this way.

As he looked through the ridiculously expensive refrigerator with more attachments in it than a Japanese sports car, his mind once again turned toward the dreams. Every night he saw more and more detail, and every night he got closer and closer to the ending. This was as far as he had ever gotten. Questions were reeling through his mind. Who was the Runner, as Harry had come to call him. What had he been carrying? Was that man really his lover? Who were "The Others" he was running from? And what had "They" promised? Harry knew he wasn't going to have answers any time soon, but that didn't make the dream any less puzzling or disturbing.

He shivered from the cold and realized he had been standing in front of the fridge for quite some time. He rummaged through the thing, pushing aside grapefruits and health bars and grabbed some V8. His aunt bought the drink religiously for Dudley ever since she saw that stupid American commercial. The entire fridge was full of them. Harry loathed the foul concoctions, but the only thing left to drink was Uncle Vernon's beer.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table facing out the window and shuddered again. The consumption of alcohol was a new nasty habit his uncle had picked up a few days after Harry's return from Hogwarts. For the most part, all the over sized man ever did was yell, but it still made Harry nervous. In all honesty, it made everyone nervous.

Petunia was more worried actually. Harry didn't blame her. He secretly wondered if Vernon would turn that anger physically toward him. He found that when his uncle was at his worst, he verbally took out his frustration out on Harry. Harry put up with it knowing he would get in serious trouble if he got caught using magic outside of school.

He was just glad he had a way out if things ever got that bad. There was always the option of owling Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley and Mad-Eye Moody. If asked, they would come storming into the house and getting him the hell out of there. That reminded him that he needed to write a letter and chew them all out for not coming to his rescue in a blaze of green flame. He was tired of this. They had been telling him for some time to keep quiet, stay low and that they would be by to pick him up soon. Well, Harry didn't understand their definition of the word "soon," but it sure as hell wasn't a month. He was starting to get the distinct feeling of deja vu. Where the $& were they?

He had decided to use that exact wording as soon as he got upstairs to his writing supplies, when he heard a semi-loud thump and curse behind him. He stood and swiveled around to find a disheveled and very inebriated Vernon Dursley. He was still wearing his business suit, a horrid sickly-yellow outfit that seemed to be at least one size too small. It gave Harry a headache every time he looked at the damn thing.

Harry quickly glanced at the clock to see that it was 11:40 at night. What the hell was an uptight asshole like his uncle doing getting home at this hour? When he looked at Uncle Vernon again, the man had pulled out his whiskey flask that he never seemed to be without anymore and was looking at Harry in a feral sort of way.

"You..." He said it so quietly the boy almost missed it.

"Me," Harry replied, completely confused. What was going on?

They both stood there for what, to Harry, felt like an hour before he finally mumbled a peeved "Whatever" and tried to walk past. He was almost to the door when he felt a fat hand grab his forearm to throw/push him into the counter across the room.

"Son of a-" Harry didn't get a chance to finish the insult or collect his bearings. He felt a pain along the entire left side of his face. When he opened his eyes, he found himself on the floor. Vernon Dursley had backhanded him. There was a metallic taste in Harry's mouth. He reached up to touch his lip and his fingers came away bloody. Quickly getting over his initial shock, Harry frantically reached for his back pocket and froze. He had left his wand upstairs!

"Shut up, you little faggot!" The large man slurred out, staggering forward. Before Harry could do anything, Vernon knelt down and curled his fat hands around Harry's slightly muscular neck. "You deserve this, and you know it! You went too far this time, you little sod! Do you think I would let you stay here after you pulled-?"

He was cut off by Harry's foot impacting his round stomach. The fat behemoth fell back with a loud "oomph," giving Harry a chance to get by. What the hell was going on?! The man had gone crazy! Harry ran as fast as he could toward the staircase. He had to get to his room. Once he got his wand this would all be over.

Just when he was about midway to the top there was a hard tug on his pant leg. He fell back to the bottom of the carpeted stairs hitting his head on the way down. He tried to get up but all he saw was stars. Harry deftly heard Uncle Vernon yelling, but the man seemed so far away. Unfortunately for the young wizard, he was not.

"You've gone too far!" the fat man yelled again as he started bringing his hands down hard on any part of flesh he could find. "How do you expect me to take care of my family?! I'm the only one with a job! You think Petunia can work! Well?! Do you, you faggot?!"

Harry had a feeling that Vernon wasn't talking to him anymore, but he didn't really give a shit. All he knew was he had to get this man off him. He was a wizard, for crying out loud! He was Harry-freakin'-Potter. But right then, that didn't seem to matter much to his uncle. Harry tried to shield himself from the onslaught only to hear a sickening _crack_ as Vernon successfully broke his right arm. The pounding on his chest and legs was pushing his back into the staircase. It felt like he was being attacked from every direction. He was having difficulty breathing. He heard a woman's scream from somewhere above him. He was also vaguely aware of the fact he was yelling for help. Probably screaming himself, too. If he had a moment to think, he would have been mortified with himself. But all he knew was that he was in pain and he wanted it to stop.

And without warning, it did. He heard yelling again, but this time it wasn't coming from him. There was a flash of light followed by a scream that would have terrified him if he had not been paying attention to the ominous donging of the hallway clock. It was midnight. In the recesses of his mind, the part unconsumed by pain and fear, Harry realized that it was 16 years to the day of his birth. _Happy birthday to me_, he sang silently to himself as another flash resounded the room and then there was nothing.


	2. Recuperation and Coffee

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 2: Recuperation and Coffee

Harry

August 6

St. Mungo's Hospital, London

3:24 PM

"I was afraid this would happen," a raspy, somber voice said. "We should have gotten him sooner."

Harry didn't move. In all honesty he didn't think he could, even if he tried. His body felt like it was on fire. Where was he? The bed underneath him felt softer than normal. He felt cool but there were blankets covering him. _What the hell?_  
"You shouldn't blame yourself Remus. I take it as my sole responsibility for Harry's condition."

_Remus?! _In excitement Harry opened his eyes-- Then promptly closed them. _Well, that was stupid._ Pain shot through his entire skull. He felt like a herd of tiny, little gremlins were playing Quidditch in it. He moaned in pain.

"Albus, I think he's awake." A crisp yet concerned Scottish voice rang through his mind.

"Yes I see, Minerva," said Dumbledore, his school headmaster, in that annoying, calm voice he always had. And right now Harry hated that voice. He wanted the voice to die. He felt a hand touch his arm. "How do you feel, my boy?"

A scratchy "ow," was all he could muster in response. The gremlins were still there and he could have sworn he heard one laughing. Wait, that wasn't the gremlin. That was Dumbledore! _Bloody bastard._

"Yes, you've been through quite an ordeal," the old man said suddenly serious.

_Ordeal?_ Harry thought with his eyes still closed. Then it hit him all at once, in a flash of realization. His uncle had... _Oh, God._ He opened his eyes in horror. He honestly didn't care if it hurt. He just stared at the ceiling, not really looking at anyone. When he tried to sit up a firm grip kept him down.

"Harry, relax." There was that voice again. "You mustn't exert yourself. You may very well have a concussion."

_Well, shit._ He stopped struggling and finally looked at everyone. There were three people in the room. Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the bed with that twinkle he always had in his eye. Another thing he hated about the man at that moment. Minerva McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, was standing at the foot of his bed looking concerned and a little angry. Then there was Remus Lupin, sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking chair at his side seeming just a bit frightened. Harry gave him a reassuring smile, even though it hurt like hell. Lupin relaxed, though only slightly. He smiled back but it looked tense.

_He must have been worried sick,_ Harry thought grimly. _Don't know why; it's not like I haven't had worse._ He started to take in the man's appearance. Lupin's clothes looked a little shabbier than their last meeting and he didn't look healthy at all. The bags beneath his eyes had seemed to deepend exponentially. The poor guy looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in days.

Harry didn't realize how lost in thought he was until Dumbledore piped up. "Ah! Right on time!"

Confused, Harry turned his head as far as it could go -which wasn't very far and didn't bother hiding a slight scowl when out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall, black-robed man swept into the room. Severus Snape wasn't exactly a sworn enemy but he was pretty damn close. The potions professor absolutely loathed Harry. It was then that he noticed where he was. It looked like a room at the Three Broomsticks. But it seemed brighter. Why wasn't he at Mungo's. Or even... Harry stopped that train of thought before he could delve into any unwanted memories.

"I have brought the potion you requested, Albus," replied Severus Snape in his usual dangerous tone. "Although I still don't see the reason for it."

It was then that he noticed the boy. Harry could have sworn for a moment, just a moment, mind you, there was something akin to worry in the potion's professor's eyes._ Nah_, He thought closing his eyes against the harsh light of the room. _Like he even has a heart to worry about his own mother, let alone me._

"It's quite simple Severus," Dumbledor replied jovially as if he were discussing the weather. "There really is no need to alert Madame Pompfrey. The dear woman has her hands full as it is."

This brought Harry out of his revelry. "Did something happen?" He cracked out.

James

May Twentieth

9:23 AM

Los Angeles, California

"No means no, Bri," James said grabbing another box with his name on it. "I just moved. Why would I want to go through it again?"

A woman in her early thirties sat in an armchair by the fireplace. She stopped filling her nails, smiled sweetly and said, "Because this move comes with a view, a car space, and hunky Brazilian men who carry out all your heavy, _heavy _boxes." She winked at him.

James nodded a full head of dark golden curls towards his rather large living room window overlooking the and the San Gabriel Mountains. "I have a very nice view, I don't own a car, and it comes with hunks?" he asked incredulously.

"Well... no. But we could always conjure them." Brianna Jackson smiled brightly.

"No, thank you," he replied in a distracted tone, trying to remember why he had boxed a copy of Moliere plays with a Jane Austin. "I've had enough magic in my life, you know that."

She threw her nail file at him and huffed when he moved his head aside as it sailed harmlessly past. "James Elijah Tanner if I hadn't known you for three years and if you hadn't dated my cousin, I'd swear you were-"

"But you have, I did, and I'm not," he interrupted smoothly. "And I'm sure you're very familiar with my family's stubborn streak." He stood and put the two books in their respective bookcases. "So, I implore you to kindly drop it. I could really use someone on my side right now."

Bri flipped her red hair over her shoulder with a manicured hand. She leaned back in her chair, letting her voice soften. "It was really that bad, huh?"

James gave up trying to unpack. Shoulder's slumped, he sat in the love seat beside her chair. "It could have gone better. Then again, it could have gone much worse."

"Jamie, sweetie, your dad sucker-punched you," she proclaimed, gently touching the bandage on his cheek. "I'd call that worse."

"Not so," quipped James with a weak smile. "It could have been Mum."

She winced sympathetically as she moved his bangs out of his eye. "Too true, too true. You never did tell me the whole story. What exactly happened?"

"Nothing spectacular, luv," he said with an uncomfortable shift. "I simply told them of my decision."

"With better tact than that I hope."

"Of course," James said, feeling slightly stung. "I was very gentle."

"Meaning you told them you were going to go through with it whether or not they approved, knowing it would break their hearts."

"I am not that heartless and you know it, Brianna. But yes, I'm afraid I may have come off a bit confrontational. I should have been more subtle, I suppose."

"Ok," interrupted Bri. "The suspense is killing me. Give me details, what did they _say_?"

James smiled at his friend. She had always been too impatient and too nosy for her own good.

"I'm sure you can guess how it went, but if you want a rehash, I'd like some coffee."

She pinched him on his arm hard. "Look at you. One day in a new job and you're turning into William Shatner. I was going to make some anyway. You unpack that new maker I gave you?" she asked, standing up.

"It was the first thing out, luv."

Bri sauntered into the kitchen while calling back, "That's the caffeine addicted James I know and love."

James smiled after her and leaned his head back against the couch. He wanted to tell her the details, he really did, but he didn't want to worry her. She always worried about him. He closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly what had happened. The memories came easily.

_Louis and Stacy Tanner stared at their son. It was obvious that they were debating whether or not they had heard him correctly. Surely he hadn't just made them tea, sat them down in the sun room, and told them he was turning his back on everything they stood for. Yes, this had to be a joke. Their son would never give up magic._

_If the situation had not been so serious, James would have laughed at the expressions on their faces. Stacy was a small woman with a slight build. but under the soft skin was muscle. She was a gymnast. Her clothing was simple. James liked that about her. Stacy always wore plain jeans and a t-shirt. She was usually so collected and steady. Right now, however, Stacy looked like someone just torn up her Anne Rice collection. Compared to her, Louis looked like a giant hairdresser. He wore bright colors, but nothing over the top. He was a painter but he never got any paint on his clothes. He liked to wear his heart on his sleeve and he urged others to show their true feelings. Why the two had ended up together, James still couldn't fathom. Whatever his parents were feeling right now, James couldn't tell. It seemed, for the moment, they had decided to keep a calm quiet demeanor when dealing with their son._

"_Jimmy," his mother started in a too-even voice. "But you- you can't- It's your destiny."_

"_Mum, you don't know that. I may have been born this way but I don't have to like it, nor do I have to entirely embrace it," James tried to explain rationally. _

"_'This way?'" Louis asked, standing to tower over James. "This way saved your life!" _

So much for calm and quiet, _James thought._

_But Louis wasn't done. Not by a long shot. "You were born into something great. You aren't some low born Muggle. You have a larger-"_

"_I swear, Father, if you finish that sentence, I'm leaving right now."_ _James looked him square in the eyes._

"_Don't you dare talk to your father that way, young man!" They were all surprised at Stacy's outburst. She was outwardly calm but underneath, a storm was brewing. "If it weren't for him, for us, you wouldn't be here right now."_

"_I wish everyone would stop bringing that up," James mumbled under his breath._

_Bad idea._

"_We keep reminding you because you seem to keep forgetting," she said in an icy calm voice._

_James decided to try another tactic. "I can't live like this, Mum. It's all too much. I just want a normal life. I can't handle anymore..." He stopped, trying t think of the right word._

"_Anymore what, James?" Louis pointed a long finger at him. "Truth? Or is it that you've finally gotten bored of us? Just like everything else. You have amazing talents, amazing potential, an excellent education, but because it takes a while to adjust, to learn, you throw it all away. What do you plan to do out there, hmm? You can't survive on that pretty face of yours out on the streets. Or maybe that's what you actually plan to do. You're certainly _delicate_ enough,. I'm sure you could get at least..."_

_James couldn't hear anymore. This was crazy. Louis was accusing him of prostitution. Stacy had her hand over her chest as if her heart was breaking. James's head was spinning. So, he did the one thing he could think of to stop those incessant, hateful words. James hit his father square on the jaw. He didn't go down though. Something in Louis seemed to snap. He lunged at James, fist flying. James caught the first right punch, but he didn't see the knee coming towards his abdomen. Stunned from the blow, he didn't have time to block as another fist came out of nowhere. It hit James right below his eye, on the left cheekbone. He fell with a harsh "thud."_

_For a few minutes, everything stopped. No birds were singing outside the window. The wind had ceased. All that any of them could hear was James's shaky breathing. Realization dawned on Louis's face. _

"_James," he said breathlessly collapsing back into his chair. He bent over and covered his face with his hands. "Good God, Jimmy, I am so sorry." _

_Stacy had the sad expression on her face again, albeit she seemed a little stunned. She had just seen her her husband get into a fist fight with her 19 year old son. She put a hand on Louis's back and said to James, "Is this what you really want? Do you intend to go through with it?" _

_James stood up. He tried not to wince but he wasn't very successful. "I'm sorry, Mum. This is something I have to do for myself. I can't live off of you two anymore."_

_He called his luggage from upstairs. It appeared in a shimmering of blue lights. He vowed that that would be the last spell he ever used. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a card. He handed it to Stacy. Louis still had his head in his hands. James had the uncomfortable feeling that the man was crying. _

_James didn't let his unease show on his face as he said to her, "I don't know my new address so if you'd like to send a letter, use the one on the card. It's where I'll be working. I'll call to tell you my number when I get a phone line hooked up. Don't worry about me, please. I'll manage somehow." He turned around, grabbed his luggage, and left out the front door. He couldn't look back. He didn't want to see his parent's expressions when they saw the title of his new job._

He was pulled out of his reverie by a voice from the kitchen. "So what's the name of this agency again?"

"Kontroll Inc. It's supposed to be one of the best modeling agencies in town."

"That's right," Bri said, coming back in the room with a tray of coffee, milk and sugar. "I forgot. It's run by a man named… Something Dove, right? That place is kinda creepy."

"How so?" he asked while pouring some cream into both of their cups. "Everyone's very nice there."

"That is what is so creepy," she replied immediately. "This is Los Angeles. They should be dipping your hair in ink and calling you funny names."

"So in your world my coworkers should be five years old?"

"Enough of that. What happened with Lou and Stacy?"

He sighed. James really didn't want to tell her what he had done. Louis never exactly approved of his friendship with Bri, but they hadn't been hard enemies either. Bri and his mother had always gotten along. So in the end he decided he might as well take a leap and tell her the truth.

"I should tell you, it wasn't a sucker punch, Bri. As I'm sure you can guess, I started out by telling them that I was quitting magic for good…" He told her the entire thing, not leaving out any details. As he spoke her eyes got wider and wider.

"Holy shit," she said softly.

"Exactly."

"You really deserved that punch."

"I beg your-"

He was interrupted by Brianna's cell-phone making a disturbing sound as it vibrated against the side table's marble surface.

"Hello?" she answered, harsher than she wanted to.

A moment later James saw her gasp and cover her mouth. "Of course, sir. I'm terribly sorry." She glanced up at James who raised his eyebrow in question. She held her finger up in response. "One moment, sir." She covered the phone before continuing. "I need to use your bathroom. Thanks." And before he could say anything, she was gone.

James blinked after but sighed and shook his head. _That's Brianna for you._ He thought picking up the black folder from the coffee table. The contents were his portfolio he had made for his interview the other day. It was woefully thin, but his manager, Candi, assured that with his "ga-ga inducing pretty face" he could have it filled in no time.

Suddenly, without warning, an ear piercing scream could be heard from his Asian inspired bathroom. He was about to jumpo up and charge to the rescue but Bri zoomed into the room, jumped in his arms and kissed him fully on the lips.

"Guess who just called me!" She shouted.

James couldn't reply. He was trying very hard not to spit the taste of coffee and ciggaretts out of his mouth. He did cough a couple of times before managing to reply. "I thought you quit!"

"Stop changing the subject! Guess who just called me."

"I didn't realize that was one of our topics on the list for discussion," he said while trying to dislodge her from his person, but her legs were wrapped too tightly. Finally he gave in and sat carefully on the couch, with her on his lap. "All right. Mercy. Who called you, my dear?"

"Oh, come on, Jamie! It's no fun if you don't guess."

"Yet somehow, I think you can live with the disappointment of boredom. Just tell me, Brianna."

"That was Al," was her simple answer. She was grinning again. Not good.

James decided to play along. "Al who? And what did Al want."

"Al as in the Albus Dumbledoor, the Headmaster of Hogwarts." She paused looking impish. "Al, my new boss! The nice man who signs my paycheck. He just called and asked me to be the new DADA teacher!" She seemed pleased.

"The new dah-dah… what?"

Bri smacked him soundly on the back of his head. "Defense Against the Dark Arts. D-A-D-A." she said slowly. "I'm going to be a professor!"

For a moment, James was stunned. "You? Why you?"

"Aw, Jamie, I love you too."

"No, I mean, I thought you hated teaching young kids."

She bounced off his lap to slide back into her chair. "I do, but we both know I can't get a job at a university anymore."

He didn't know what to say. _Think, James, think. Ah, yes!_ "Isn't that where Aunt Minnie teaches?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off, averting her eyes.

_She wouldn't._ "You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Well, you know how she is," she practically shouted, folding her arms. "She would never let me work there if she knew."

"Your aunt is not that cruel, Brianna. You don't give her enough credit. She really cares for you."

"Yeah, right," she replied venomously. "You ever heard the story of the scorpion and the tortoise?"

"Stop exaggerating, Bri. She's your family."

"Oh, look who's talking. You didn't even care enough about yours to give them a proper farewell." The instant the words came out of her lips, she clasped her hands firmly to her mouth. She was obviously horrified with herself. "Oh, James, I'm sorry I didn't mea-

"Yes, you did," he said with a slight smile. He gently removed her hands from her mouth and held them. "It's alright."

"No," she said as he stood up. "It's never alright. Zero to bitch in 2.3 seconds. I-"

"I have a meeting with my ner manager in a few hours. I better get ready." He tugged her to her feet.

"But-" James gave her a peck on the lips to stop her from talking.

"I really do need to prepare. Go home. Give David a kiss for me."

Before she could protest anymore, James had led her to the door, handed her her crimson purse and gave her another kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations, love."

He closed the door. He did not move until he eventually heard her walking towards the elevator. With a sigh, he collapsed against the door's faux-wooden frame.

"She really didn't mean to be cruel, James," he said softly to himself.

_That doesn't make it hurt any less_, replied a small voice in the back of his head.

He pushed himself from the door and snapped, "Shut up." He really could do with that shower.

A/N Yes, yes, two new characters! There's really a point to them, I promise. I originally had them in the eighth chapter, but, thanks to some advice from several reviewers, I put them in sooner.

I cannot, for the life of me remember where Mungo's is. If someone knows, please tell me.

As always, please review, or else I won't feel like writing at all. Enjoy!


	3. Mi Familia

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 3: Mi Familia

Lucien

August seventh

10:12 AM

San Francisco, California, United States

Ok, it was official. Lucien Portillo-Martinez was annoyed. He normally liked having a family of 14 but this was all too much to bear. The twins were having their 15th birthday soon, and he had completely forgotten. Just a few days ago it was Rosa's 6th. He had gotten her the biggest, pinkest present he could find- within his budget, of course-, which made him feel even more like a _cabron. _He didn't mean to play favorites, it just happened.

Thus was the reason a 17 year old boy with a braid down to his ankles was standing in front of the mall in naught but his yummy-sushi jammies, fuzzy blue slippers, and his white faux fur trench coat, wracking his brain, trying to remember what he had gotten the little hellions last year.

Well, Angel wasn't as much of a hellion as Angela was. She could be downright evil when she wanted to be. That morning she had awoken him to the sweet sound of a large Chinese gong... Don't ask. When she was 5 she had put green food dye in his shampoo. His once beautiful hair was the color of algae for 3 weeks. When she was seven, she had mixed Elmer's Glue with his toothpaste! Lucien sighed and wondered what the next day would bring.

Lucien was making his way towards Hot Topics when the little hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. Something was wrong. He spun around, nearly knocking over a kid in a stupid Batman shirt, but he didn't see anyone suspicious. However, suspicious for San Francisco was a pretty small category. Plus, he doubted he could recognize weird if he ever saw it. He didn't exactly look "normal" even for Cali standards. Of course, people would watch him. _Okay, Lucien, no more jalapeño chili burritos before bed..._

After he had a quick bite to eat, he was able to finish three hours later. He decided that while walking home, he would discretely keep an eye out for any potential stalkers. Though the feeling had come and gone with the first sensation, he didn't want to take any chances.

He wasn't too distracted to be proud of what he had bought Angela: a tight shirt that said "QUIT STARING AT MY BOOBS, YOU PERV!" on where the chest area was. She would love it, Lucien was sure of that. And for Angel, he got a book titled "What Herbs Should you Plant and When." The kid liked gardening and plants. Lucien thought, _What the hell, if he doesn't like it he can refund it._

It wasn't until he was standing in front of the red door that he realized he had made it home. He took a moment to look around. Angel had done most of the renovating in the yard. It was beautifully trimmed, with rose bushes snaking their way up the drive way. Trees of all kinds were scattered across the premises, front and back. Ivy snaked up the side of the old Victorian house. If you climbed up to the roof and slowly turned in a circle, you could see that the vegetation circled the house in the pattern of an intricate octagon. Why Abuela had wanted it in that specific pattern, Lucien thought they would never know, but she had insisted on it not long before. That was a little over a year ago, in fact.

Behind that red door he could hear crashing and screaming. He gulped and turned the fake crystal knob. He was immediately bombarded by senses one could find no other place in the world. He loved this house with its weird smells of chamomile and smoke. Color pervaded everything as it wrapped you in a warm rainbow of emotions. In the Portillo-Martinez house, it always felt like Christmas. Everyone was welcome. You're always loved.

Lucien was adopted. Now, that didn't mean his family loved him any less. They treated him the exact same as everyone else in the household. His Abuela, Grandmother, had chosen him in an orphanage when his Mamasita and Papi thought they couldn't have kids. Oh, how wrong they were.

Lucien was not an only child by a long shot. The twins weren't his only siblings either. They were the first after him though. Then came Alejandro, age 14, the astronomer. He loved looking at the stars. His room was a myriad of constellation charts and space photographs. Many books about space adorned the bookshelf of his room. The room itself was one giant space station. Complete with star-painted walls, meticulously crafted to look authentic.

After Alejandro, came Catalina, age 13, the bookworm. She was the type of person who knew a little of everything, from snakes to asbestos. Her walls were covered in books, literally. Her entire room was one big library. She had a drawer under her bed in which she kept some of her favorite subjects. While half of her dresser was used for its intended purposes, the other half was filled with-you guessed it- books. She wasn't a bad kind of nerd. She was sociable enough, always kind to people; always helped around the house. She just loved to learn.

Following her, was Pedro, age 12, the fighter. Don't let the name fool you. He's a pacifist at heart. He's just good at what he does. "What does he do," you ask? Judo, kick boxing, akido, ninjitsu, you name it he can do it. Or can learn it fairly quickly. He's not a master at anything yet. But for his age he could probably whoop your old man.

After this certain prodigy, came Alberto, age 11, the... well, the problem child. Unlike the rest of the Portillo-Martinez children, Alberto just didn't quite have a niche in the world yet. He was always having trouble in school, and his grades weren't exactly up to par.

He was brilliant, though. Lucien sometimes asked the kid to help with his algebra. Lucien always got the best grades in the class. Alberto just didn't want to try. When asked about the subject he always said it was too "boring." It apparently presented him with no challenge. He had gotten into several fights with the kids in the neighborhood, which Pedro promptly beat up despite his gentle nature. No one messes with this family.

Finally, Abuela decided the boy might just be telling the truth. Much to his chagrin, Alberto took several tests to gauge his academic proficiency. Once Lucien had convinced him to, he agreed to take the tests seriously and not flunk them. The school has enrolled him in advanced classes next fall in the hopes that it might make Alberto more active.

Next came Eduardo, age 10, the new age freak. Now, that's not an insult, he just likes the sound of it even though it earns him a smack every time he says it. He's into the entire thing; crystals, incense, weird music, he even has an altar.

Don't you dare call him a witch or a wiccan. He hates those "labels." He prefers the term "mystic Christian." And it's true. He goes to church every Sunday, is involved in the youth program, even does volunteer work for the city every once in a while. He dresses like any normal boy, he's just a bit off.

Next in line was Annita, age 9, artist. She loves everything about art. Using her hands to create something gives her no other joy in the world. Her room is full of paint splotches and old art. Her favorite artists are da Vinci and Dali and it shows. Her walls are covered with their pieces. Including the _Last Supper_ and _Persistence of Memory_ otherwise known as "melting clocks." Her style shows it, too, in a mixture of surrealism with hidden atheist meanings.

She's been a part of several exhibitions and has won several awards. One was for her portrait called _"Mi Familia."_ It was so large it took up an entire wall in the living room. The colors on it were as vibrant as the house and family themselves. Her representations of her family were all melted together in a giant kaleidoscope. Every time Lucien walked in he looked at that painting. It was his favorite.

Moving along, we find Marco, age 8, the smart-ass. He loves to make people laugh. It didn't matter what the joke was, he did it. Many times, he was forced soap into his mouth, but that did nothing to deter his whimsical spirit.

What's worse was that he had started working on an act. At recess, a teacher found him doing a stand-up comedy about the family, and not all of it was pleasant. Mrs. Thatcher, the teacher, had called a parent-teacher meeting where she told his parents, in detail, what poor Marco had said. His papi just looked at him and said in Spanish, "_Well, at least you told the truth._" This earned him a smack upside the head from his endearing wife who was trying not to laugh.

Where there's a yin, there's a yang, and none would be better at this role than Carlos, age 7,the quiet one. He was a sweetheart when he wanted to be, but lately he just wanted to be left alone. With the exception of Marco, he rarely said a word to anyone. No one knows much about Carlos not even Carlos himself. He was just... incomplete somehow and he knew it. It made Lucien sad at times.

And the most recent addition to this little circus was Rosa, age 6, the cute one - or at least that's how Lucien saw it. Every morning she gave Lucien a great big hug and begged him to take her somewhere. He spoiled her rotten.

She has such an imagination too! Albeit a little morbid. She had countless imaginary friends she talked to constantly. Sometimes, she would make some up for a certain situation but then later completely drop them. Once, in a subway, she started talking to a bunch of her invisible friends. When asked, she had claimed they had died on the subway accident a few years ago. She stared into space constantly, as if looking for something. Like a cat.

Her room was a vision of pink. The carpet was pink, as well as the bed, the curtains, the dresser and the desk. The entire thing was screamed of cuteness. Angie had designed it.

While Angel had a knack at designing outside of a house, his twin sister was just as good with the inside. The first time she ever tried to design a room she had done the living room. It looked so good that Abuela had declared she should do ALL the rooms that way. No on argued. She had been thirteen.

They twins made a great pair. Everything they did complemented each other. Angela was loud and had an anger problem; Angel was calm and always meditated. Her favorite color was pink, and he didn't even have one. She was interior design while he was a gardener.

They are exact opposites, but they never argued. They were always around each other, so of course Angela would do something to embarrass Angel, but he always got over it. The only time he pissed her off was when he backed down from a fight, and even then she still loved him.

Shaking off the nostalgia, Lucien started walking through the multicolored living room toward Alejandro. Lucien smiled at his little brother. The boy was lazily stretched out on one of the couches, reading through a book about Cassiopeia. That's when Lucien noticed the screaming and crashing was the TV up full blast. When Alejandro finally saw him, he quickly sat up and switched off the sound by remote. He looked up sheepishly at Lucien.

_"It got too quiet,"_ Alejandro explained in Spanish. He cleared his throat. _"So, what did you get them?"_

Lucien grinned, plopped down on the couch across from him and tossed him the bags. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

_"Abuela made them all go to a movie so you could have time to wrap the presents. She knew you would forget."_ Glancing in the bags, Alejandro ignored Lucien's sputtering. After a minute, he looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. "You do realize that this is almost exactly what you got them last year, right?" he questioned, reverting to English.

Lucien sputtering stopped and his face fell. _"¿Que?"_ he said stupidly. Scrambling over the homemade coffee table, Lucien snatched the bags back and glared into them. "You have GOT to be kidding me!"

Just then a wizened yet sharp, accented voice called from the kitchen, "Lucien! Een heere!"

_"¡Si, Abuela!_ He threw the bags against the couch and rushed into the large, Mexican styled kitchen. He loved the kitchen more than any other room in the house. Something was always on the stove because someone was always hungry. Spices, herbs, and flowers greeted you as you walked through the threshold. The earth tones created a warmth that could only be described as "home."

But that wasn't the best part. The decor appealed to Lucien, of course, but the thing he loved the most about the room was that it fueled his most fervent passion; cooking. Although Lucien had hobbies, he especially loved to cook. If you asked him to he could bake, boil, sautee, flambé, you name it. He was a master chef in the making. The first time he had tried his hand in the kitchen, he had brought tears to Papi's eyes, and Jose Martinez was not an emotional man.

Lucien also loved that he could spend time with Abuela. No one dared enter her domain when something was cooking. That would mean certain death, or at least a good six hours of housework. Same thing as far as Lucien and his siblings were concerned. For some strange reason, he seemed to be the only one she would allow to help her.

Which was exactly what she had in mind as she silently pointed to the pot of chili boiling on the stove. She didn't seem to care that he was still in his nightclothes. Lucien could see that her hands were full chopping celery. He bounced over to the rather large cauldron-like pot and started stirring, before something very green and very pink obstructed his view. Pulling it off his head, he saw it was his usual "pink tulip" apron. He sheepishly gave Abuela an apologetic look as he pulled it on over his head and tied it one handed. He never stopped stirring.

_"Diablo,"_ she called, using her nickname for him.

He turned, expecting her to give him another task, just as a large kitchen knife came hurtling at his head. Reflexively he shielded his face with his arms and waited for the pain. After a few seconds he noticed nothing had happened. Lucien looked up to find the knife had stopped in midair, mere inches from his face, while his Abuela was giving him a thoughtful look.

Lucien couldn't move. His brain had gone numb. It wasn't until the knife clattered to the floor that he remembered to breath. The force of the large gasp of air made him crash to his knees. All he could do was stare at Abuela, who was still giving him a pensive look.

This was not happening. Abuela did not just throw a knife at his head. This was all some sick joke. Lucien brought his eyes to focus on the knife as if verifying its existence.

_"What in the seven hells was that all about?!"_ He didn't know if he was shouting at Abuela or the offending object now lying helpless on the floor. _"You could have killed me!"_

She raised an eyebrow. _"Are you hurt?"_

He stopped to think for a moment. "Well... no," Lucien answered, not knowing he had changed to English. "But what made you think I wouldn't be? I could have been sliced in half!"

Abuela rolled her eyes in exasperation and made a move towards him. He flinched and almost scooted backward, but long conditioning had taught him to obey. However, all she did was lightly wrap her hand around his arm and lift him up. When he was on his feet she pointed him towards the living room.

"_Go upstairs," _she said. _"I'll explain everything after you are cleaned and dressed."_

He nodded, feeling a migraine coming on. Without another word, Lucien walked through the living room towards the stairs. Alejandro took one look at his face and threw down his book. It was obvious that he hadn't heard anything. Alejandro walked up to Lucien to stare into his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, putting a hand on Lucien's shoulder.

Lucien shook the hand off and stepped around him. "Yeah," he answered_, "_I'll be upstairs. I just need some time alone." Not waiting for a reply, Lucien ran up the steps two by two.

He was trying really hard not to freak out. He had the feeling that he wasn't being very successful. All that was going through his head, over and over was the thought, _This is not happening_

The first thing Lucien did when he got to his room was head for his bathroom. He always felt better after a shower. Lucien had his own bathroom. All of his brothers and sisters did. Papi had them installed after there was a fight over one during a weekday morning. They had to replace three walls, a glass vase, and a couch.

Lucien stepped into the steaming droplets and as always he felt the problems of the world wash away. All questions about the Floating Knife, and Parrys disappeared from his mind as he let the water do its job.

When he was finished and dressed Abuela was in his room with a large black bag. Lucien had never seen it before. Feeling slightly scared, he walked over to her and sat on the bed, pulling his _Garfield_ pillow to his chest. Abuela had made it for him when he was five.

Abuela's hand disappeared into the bag for a moment and came out with an yellowish envelope. She handed it to him reverently. He let the pillow drop to his lap as he took it from her. Lucien noticed that the envelope was sealed with maroon wax. The design was a dragon in the shape of a rose.

He stared at it until Abuela said, _"That was given to me almost sixteen years ago."_

He looked at her sharply with narrowed eyes.

_"Oh, yes, you heard me right."_ She gave him a wry smile. _"I had just come home from a nice, long, relaxing vacation to Mexico. So imagine my surprise when a strange young man, covered in blood, was on my doorstep begging for sanctuary. He handed me a baby boy wrapped in a blanket of fine maroon silk. He told me that if the child ever showed any type of supernatural ability before his 20th birthday that I was to give this to him."_ She looked pointedly at the envelope.

He stared at it again, at a loss for words and jumped when she finally yelled, _"Read it already! I've been waiting 15 years to see what it said! The suspense is killing me!"_

With trembling hands Lucien sliced open the beautiful seal. A tingle ran through his body but he ignored it, shaking it off as excitement. He upended the contents into his hand and was somewhat disappointed when all that fell out was a simple sheet of lined paper, much unlike the thick, rich paper of its shell. It was the kind of paper he used for school. The paper even still had the tabs on it from when it was torn out of a notebook.

He unfolded it and read in trepidation.

**_Dear Lucien,_**

I am your mother, and if you are reading this, then I am dead. I know, it's such a typical way to start out a letter like this, but I can't think of anything better. I pray that this letter has reached you safely, that your family loves you, and that you are happy. You must have so many questions. I know I would. I am saddened to say that I cannot tell you everything. Although I would like to explain everything that I have been through in the last year, you are too young, and the situations of your birth are too great. You simply are not ready. What I can tell you is that your father is not normal. Though he is most likely dead as well, he was born into something far more powerful and dangerous than I could ever imagine. I don't think I STILL grasp all of what's been going on. It makes my head spin even now. No doubt you have noticed that you are special, that you can do things ordinary people can only dream of. You, my darling baby boy, are a magical, at least in part. You could not have opened the seal if you were not. Along with this letter you should have gotten a bag. 

Lucien looked at Abuela just as she held up a small maroon pouch. Silently, he set it in his lap and opened it with one hand. His other hand still clutched the letter. Inside he found a locket and a medium-sized leather-bound book. He brought the locket to his face and saw that on one side was a Jesus fish and on the other was a simple cross. He tried to open the book but couldn't. Perplexed, he returned to the letter.

_**The locket is a mixture of two necklaces that belonged to both your father and myself. The cross was his and the fish was mine. If you open it, you will find a picture of us from when we were on our first "date." I'm looking at it now, actually, and it brings a warmth to my heart. We were so happy then, and we are still just as in love. No doubt you are wondering how to open the book or even what it is. It is a diary of my life. Some things were omitted for your safety, of course, but we think it is better that way. Along with my writings, there are some of my sketches and poems. They always made your father smile. I hope that you treasure them. To open the book you must use the locket. It becomes the key. There is so much more I wish to tell you, but time is short, and the sky grows dark. I know that They will find us soon. And I'll be damned if I let Them harm a hair on your head.**_

Here, the handwriting started to become erratic, as if the author's hand was shaking. Tiny wet patches adorned the paper. Lucien noticed they were tears as his own joined them.

**I am ruffling your hair right now. You're hungry. I should feed you.  
I love you, my wonderful child. Please be safe.  
D.**

He looked up from the letter to gaze into his Abuela's eyes but her face was blurry. He wiped away the tears with his sleeve then looked at her again. She was smiling a sad smile as she held her arms out for him. He jumped into them without even thinking. All he knew was that he wanted – no, needed to be held. The letter, book and pillow clattered to the floor while the locket's chain was still wrapped firmly in his fingers.

Lucien didn't know how long they had stayed like that until they heard a crash from the direction of the living room. He quickly wiped any excess tears from his face as Angel walked in carrying their youngest sister Rosa in his arms. Once she saw Lucien she shot out from Angel's grasp and bound toward the long-haired boy, hugging him fiercely. He held her just as tight.

She pushed back a little to stare at him with wide eyes in fascination_. "Guess what, big brother,"_ she exclaimed. _"There's a giant in the living room!"_

Lucien raised an eyebrow questioningly at Angel who was bending down to pick up the letter and book. He handed them back to Lucien with a shrug.

_"This man showed up on the door step just as we got home. He said he has a letter for you."_

Lucien's blood ran cold. _Oh, Goddess, please, not another one._ It was then that he noticed Abuela was gone.

He put Rosa, who huffed in indignation, on the ground and quickly stuffed his newfound precious possessions into the maroon bag. He stopped as he was about to put the locket away. Instead, he brought the chain over his head. It hung so that the locket itself pressed reassuringly against his chest, so close to his heart. He jumped up, and just when he was about to walk back through the kitchen doors, he noticed two sets of eyes on his back. He swirled around and gave them his usual goofy grin.

"Well let's hope I'm not getting sued!" And with that he was gone. Leaving two very confused siblings in his wake.

By the time Lucien got to the door to the living room, Catalina was already serving tea to a... well the only proper word he could think of to describe the man was _gigante_. Everything about him was large. His hands, beard, coat, even the strange pick umbrella he had clutched in his hand. The other hand was politely taking one of their infinitely smaller teacups from Catalina. His scruffy beard was littered with crumbs from one of the cookies Lucien had made the night before. He was taking up the entire couch on the left side of the wall while the family surrounded him on the others.

Everyone turned as Lucien stepped through the threshold. He grinned a shaky grin and made his way across the grand room. The gigante stood with a friendly grin. Or at least Lucien thought it was friendly from the way his eyes scrunched. He was able to stand fully erect on account of the ceiling being ridiculously high.

"'Ello. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts and professor of Care of Magical Creatures at yer service. Everyone calls me Hagrid." He said as he held out his hand. "Yeh must be Lucien."


	4. Early Rising, Late Fiesta

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 4: Early Rising, Late Fiesta

James

May Twenty fifth

5:15 AM

Los Angeles, California

It was early. Too early for most people's liking. However, James was nothing if not a morning person. As his too-loud alarm clock resounded the apartment, James jumped up and walked across the room to turn it off. Grabbing his robe on the way, he headed straight to the kitchen. He liked to have his usual morning tea on important days. He made sure to get one with ginko in it. He had to be ready for the upcoming day. This was going to be his first time out for a shoot, after all. His manager, Tracy, had said she had hooked him up with "the mother of all shoots" and he was about bursting to get into the office.

Once done, James resolutely stood up and made his way into the bathroom. Shucking his pajamas and robe off he turned on the shower. It took him all of fifteen minutes to wash his hair. He meticulously ran a fine-toothed comb through his raven locks. Shaking his head and running his left hand through his hair to produce lighter curls he simultaneously reached for his 30 dollar mousse that Tracy had suggested. It smelled like sunflowers to him. Once he was finished with his hair, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the kitchen. He couldn't wear his clothes until his hair dry. The stylist Tracy had gotten for him had told James to let his hair air dry for at least half an hour after he put mouse in. He couldn't put any chemicals on his new clothes. After he had waited the appropriate amount of time, he gently extricated a pair of black slacks and a dark blue button up shirt. One of Tracy's designers had told him what colors would look best with his skin tone. A pair of black loafers finished the ensemble. He didn't think he had ever worked so hard on his personal appearance in his life. He felt odd.

He decided to do one last check in the mirror. He was glad he had had the insight to take the full-length mirror from home. It had been his Grandmothers. Shad left it to him in her will. The mirror was one of his most prized possessions. He remembered when he had been small, around four or five, and his Grammy sat him in front of the mirror to play with his toys as she told him stories. He remembered her deep rumbling voice as she sat in the rocking chair, facing the mirror. She sang him to sleep like that every night. Her name was Rose, but he called her Grammy Rosy. She had died when he was ten due to heart problems.

He ran his hand over the hand carved wooden frame that had roses inlaid into it briefly before he shook himself and checked his over all look. His bruise was almost totally gone. Tracy had assured him that make up could practically erase the yellow coloration and the touch-up artist could do the rest with the picture. He looked nearly perfect. He still didn't like the haircut, though. He used to have creamy blonde hair down to the middle of his back. Now the color had been highlighted with a red tint and it was a little above shoulder length. In the long run, he supposed he didn't mind. It was just hair after all, he could grow it back after all this was over, and he trusted Tracy and her people. He could deal with a few alterations if they thought it would make him more photogenic.

_Something's missing, _James thought, rubbing his neck as he was prone to do when he was thinking. He swiftly pulled his arm down. Tracy had told him not to do that. She said it made him look childish. Then he remembered what was wrong. _Oh, yes! The eyes._

He walked over to the box laid beside his bed on the dresser. Lifting it up, he brought out his contacts case. He put the annoyingly itchy things in his eyes exactly like Tracy had shown him how. He walked back to the mirror once again to take a final look. He looked almost foreign to himself. His eyes were now a violent shade of blue. Tracy's people had said it would bring out his hair and skin tone. James thought the contacts made them look like a pair of blue headlights, and his already waxed eyebrows seemed even thinner. He felt ridiculous for missing his deep black eyes. He reminded himself that he trusted Tracy. He wanted this, after all

James looked up at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already 6. He had to be at the company for the photo shoot in forty-five minutes. It would take at least thirty to get through the traffic but he liked to be early. His telephone rang, and he jumped to get it. The concierge was calling to tell him that his taxi had gotten there. James thanked the old man and hung up. He had liked the concierge, Fred, from the moment he had met him. He seemed like a sweet gentleman. James grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

By the time James had gotten to the Kontroll Inc. headquarters, he was fifteen minutes late. The Hispanic driver had understood barely half of what James had said and vice versa. The driver had turned the wrong way at least twelve times. James was polite and gave a good tip but he was still more than a little frustrated as he stepped into the building. He had wanted to arrive early and look as nice as possible. Now his silk shirt was rumpled and he smelled like an ashtray.

As always, the building was breathtaking. It was called the Kontroll tower, and not without reason. It was 166 floors structured to form a spiral tower. If you looked up, you could see all the way to the glass roof. From the outside it looked like a mirror obelisk. James resisted the urge to stare. He didn't want to seem like a country bumpkin, after all. The floor was teaming with activity. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be and everyone seemed to be late. James found it relaxing in a way, like watching ants in a colony.

He walked ahead to see, directly in font of him, a large, marble, half circle desk. The secretary sitting behind it paid him no mind, continuing on with her conversation over her cell. Obviously, the debate on whether Orlando Bloom looked better as a blond or brunette took precedence over a new employee like him. He cleared his throat politely. She still ignored him. James said a quiet, "excuse me, madam." All she did in response to him was hold up a slender finger with a nail almost as long as the appendage itself.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said not knowing what to do. "I'm already late as it is and Tracy said she would meet me here. Did she mean her office, or-" He was cut off as the secretary, Peggy by her name plate, shoved a folded, scented, pink paper under his nose, never looking up. He thanked her, not that she noticed, and started to read. He felt his stomach drop.

**Dear James,**

**I am so so so so sorry. Theres been an emergency with one of my our clients in Milan and they refused to talk to anyone but me. I should be back in a week. You need to find Deondria and she'll do your shoot. Don't worry, you will be in good hands. She's one of the best. **

**Love, **

**Tracy McMillan**

**P.S. Don't let her scare you, she's really harmless.**

_Scare me? _James thought to himself.

He almost jumped when Peggy pushed a button and her nasally voice resounded the front hall, "De, come to the front desk, please. De, you're needed at the front desk."

CRASH! BANG! "Who the hell would put pink with his skintone!? I want peach, not pink, _peach_ damnit! Take it off, burn it and fix it!" Just then, barreling towards them at speeds James previously thought impossible, a tiny woman with a light chocolate complexion came into view. Her short hair was pulled back .and slicked to her head. She wore cream Manolo Blahniks, an off white Nicole Miller Blouse from the Spring 2007 catalog and pair of Jacquard pants from fall 2006. James was impressed. Before she crashed into him, Ms. Adams (that was who he assumed it was) stopped mere inches from him and immediately began circling like a vulture. After the fifth round she stopped in front of him and stepped back. James was glad; he was starting to get dizzy.

"Please, I beg of you, tell me this isn't another intern." She spoke to Peggy in a crisp Brooklyn accent, but the secretary didn't respond. She didn't even look up from her magazine. But she did hand Ms. Adams another letter.

For a few breathless moments, she skimmed the letter, finally exclaiming a rough "Ha!" when she finished.

"What's your name kid?" she demanded, cocking a bony hip.

"James Tanner, Ms. Adams. I was told-"

She waved a hand as if swiping away a fly and started walking back the way she came. James followed, trying not to trip over his feet. "Don't care. Love the accent. And don't call me Ms. anything. It's De. Tray says that you're up for the jungle shoot?" She stopped and turned around. He almost crashed into her. Before James could answer, she continued talking in her quick manner. "I'm changing that. You're full spread material, kid. Good God, man, do you ever smile? I just told you I can make you famous."

"I apologize. Thank you, Ms. A- De, but I'm not at all sure I want that kind of attention."

De scoffed. "Of course you do. You're a model. If you didn't want attention, you wouldn't have signed up to get that pretty boy face of yours photographed." She pointed to her right and said, "Michel will hook you up with a face." Without further ado, she walked off yelling something about the color peach.

That was when James noticed their surroundings. He was stunned. It was a hub of activity. Everyone was running, everyone seemed panicked. It was too bright. That was all he could process for the time being before he felt a tug on his arm. As he was pulled by a highly tanned man with bleached hair to a make up booth, he briefly thought to himself, _Just what have I gotten myself into?_

Lucien

August tenth

1:23 PM

San Francisco, California

"'Ello. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts and professor of Care of Magical Creatures at yer service. Everyone calls me Hagrid." He said as he held out his hand. "Yeh must be Lucien."

Lucien took the hand, which covered his completely, and stared dazedly at him. "Er..._si,"_ he said then shook his head as if a fly was nearby. "I mean, yes. Yes, I am. I'm sorry, but I was told you had a letter for me..."

"Oh, too righ'" said the gigante - Hagrid with another smile. He reached into his big coat and pulled out a think envelope. He handed it to him in almost reverence then grinned again apologetically. "Yeh see, yeh were s'posed to get it a lot sooner, years 'go in fact. But thing haven't been goin' about as ordered 'round our parts."

Lucien smiled absentmindedly to show his understanding then turned his attention to this newest letter. The paper of the envelope was very similar to the one from his mother. He almost teared up again but he didn't want everyone there to see. He turned it over and saw a seal on this one as well. It was purple wax in the design some sort of crest; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

With surprisingly steady hands, he opened it and read aloud.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZADRY

Head Master: Album Dumbledoor  
(Order of Merlin, First Class,Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizarsds)

Dear Mr. Portillo-Martinez,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Howarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term Begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Head Mistress

The room was silent for all of two seconds until, Eduardo let out a loud, "SAY WHAT?!

Lucien felt like he was going to faint. He looked from the letter to Hagrid then back to the letter again. For the second time in a very short while he felt as if his life had been turned completely upside down. He unknowingly started swaying on his feet as the -Hogwarts, was it?- letter fell from his hands. Tiny fireflies were dancing in front of his eyes.

Luckily, Angel and Angie caught him before he could fall, and helped him to a large comfy chair. While Papi and Mamasita shooed everyone from the living room, Lucien put his hands to his head, and took a few deep breaths. The twins were about to argue being pushed out, when Papi gave them "The Look." They practically ran upstairs.

"Are you alrigh'," asked Hagrid in his heavily accented voice as Mamasita ran calming circles on his back with her palm. Both seemed to keep him steady to where he could finally speak.

"Please tell me your joking." His voice sounded foreign, even to him. It was rough and harsh like sandpaper.

_"You know he's not,"_ Abuela said, almost stern. She stuck the letter and envelope under his nose along with his bag... His mother's bag. _"This is your destiny."_

He took the items from her and stared at them for a few seconds. Again the room was silent. Even Hagrid seemed to know something was up, as he started fidgeting on the couch. He jumped, nearly breaking it, when Lucien suddenly addressed him.

"I don't know any magic. You said I should have gotten this letter years ago, so I'm assuming I'll be behind in my, uh… classes."

"Ye'll have a tutor," Hagrid answered seeming to feel more at ease. "Brigh'est young witch at Hogwarts, if yeh ask me."

"Where exactly is this school?" asked Mamasita. "Will there me a long commute? My husband and I work a lot. Unfortunately, we don't have time to take a long drive every morning and afternoon." She gave her son an apologetic look.

Lucien was very surprised that she had accepted this so soon, both of his parents in fact. They're the most skeptical people he knows. He decided to push that aside for later, when he heard Hagrid's answer.

"Oh, yeh see, he won' 'xactly have to commute..." Hagrid had suddenly started looking very uncomfortable. He began fidgeting again.

Papi raised an eyebrow. See? Skeptical. "So, he can take the bus or walk. Is it within city limits?"

"Not 'xactly." He almost withered under the glares he was receiving. He took a deep breath and continued quickly. "Hogwarts is somewhere in the area of England" A pause. "And so's his tutor. That's why I had to come personally. Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, wants Lucien here to start trainin' righ' away. He needs to come back with me."

"I beg your pardon?" Mamasita started in, loud and threateningly, when Abuela interrupted her.

_"Then, I guess you should go pack, eh, Diablo?"_

"But, Abuela-"

_"Don't you 'but Abuela' me, now go."_ Her reply was sharp and firm. Something that gives no room for argument.

Lucien quickly gathered his things and half-ran up the steps. He knew he was acting childish but he was confused, pissed, but most of all he was scared. He didn't want to leave his family. His siblings were probably the only friends he had. Sure he had people he knew and hung out with, but they were just acquaintances at best. He had never been away from home more than a month or so for Summer camp, and even then he missed everyone so much it hurt.

When he got to his room he had to stop himself from slamming the door. Suddenly, he was attacked by a mass of brown hair.

"Guys, get off!" He yelled, pushing everyone. He didn't mean to push as hard as he did. Rosa fell back and started crying. He sighed and scooped her up, whispering reassuring nothings into her ear. His room was filled to capacity with his 7 brothers and 4 sisters. He barely had room to bounce Rosa in his arms.

_"We won't let them take you away,"_ shouted Pedro. _"We just won't!"_ Tears started to well up in his eyes.

"You guys were listening?" The mass of hair bobbed up and down. "So you decided to plan a sneak attack up in my room?" Again the brown sea moved.

Lucien sighed and moved through them all to sit down on his bed only to find the cat, Vene and the dog, Cura stretched out on it. He let out a high-pitched whistle and they immediately bounded to the other side of the room. He sat on the bed, gently put his possessions on the dresser, and set Rosa on his knee so she was facing him. She only scooted closer and burrowed her face in his chest.

"Were are _familia, si?_" He looked at everyone to make sure they all answered in the affirmative. "And what is _familia?_" He looked at Rosa this time, tapping her on one of her pig-tails so she knew that he was asking him.

_"Something that can't be cut, burned, or broken."_ Her usual petite voice was muffled by his shirt, to which her tiny hands were clutching tightly.

_"That's right,"_ he said, smiling as he started smoothing her hair. It reminded him of petting a scared kitten. "And no matter where I am. That bond of _famillia_ will always be there. Whether I'm in England or Zimbabwe, you guys will always be in my heart."

Angel sighed and stood up from the bean bag he was sharing with Angie. _"Well then, I guess we might as well help you pack. You have a long trip ahead of you."_

"_Come on,"_ Angie said standing to join her brother, hands on hips. "_You heard the man. Annita, get his suitcase, I think it's in the attic, Carlos, you can go help her. Catalina, Alejandro, stay and help us. The rest of you go to your rooms and stay out of our way." _She walked to the door and held it open, obviously expecting everyone to listen to her.

They were all taken aback by Angel's calm exterior when facing the chance of not being able seeing his brother for months on end. Even more surprising was that Angie actually backed Angel up! They all thought she would yell and scream and go try to burn this new school down... She has anger issues. But all she did was give out orders like this was the most normal thing in the world.

When it was obvious nobody was moving, Lucien tried to reassure them. "Go on, you guys. Maybe you can scrounge up a going away present for me."

"_That won't be necessary just yet, little ones." _Abuela had suddenly appeared at the door, making everyone jump. Angela would have fallen on her butt if she'd had room to. "_Your parents and I have convinced Senor Hagrid to stay the night so we can give Lucien a proper farewell party." _

There was a moment of silence followed by ear-blowing cheers. The entire house filled with delighted screams.

Once those had subsided, and she had taken her fingers out of her ears, Abuela ordered them out of the room and set them each to tasks... Much like Angie had done only moments before. Before Lucien started down the stairs he quickly changed into a superman t-shirt and tight jeans. He had a feeling that it would be a long party and he didn't want to look too silly. As he was walking down the stairs,he caught a glimpse of Abuela whisper something discreetly into both of the twins' ears, before they ran out the front door, looking giddy.

The rest were given pretty clear instructions. Alejandro and Alberto were in charge of clearing the backyard patio. Catalina, Eduardo, and Annita were in charge of setting everything up. Such as the table, chairs, streamers and the large, Mexican flag they usually hung when they really celebrated. Julio and Pedro were in charge of finding the decorations. And Carlos and Rosa were in charge of blowing balloons with the family air blower. Rosa always got a kick out of making funny voices with helium. Julio had been grounded for a week after he showed her how. Abuela, Mamasita, and Papi oversaw everything. Poor Hagrid stood there completely confused until Abuela told him to help set up the streamers and flag to the patio roof since he was tall enough. And Lucien, of course was sent into the kitchen to finish up the dinner and make some more chili some enchiladas, burritos, and salad. Not that he was complaining.

The ending result of all of their efforts was astounding. Their backyard had been turned into one gigantic rainbow. Color was everywhere! Loud, thrumming Latino music was coming from the large boombox. Food fit for a palace feast adorned the long, rather old looking table.

Once everything was ready, the party began. Lucien always loved family parties. There was music and dancing and lots and lots of food. The best part was when he got to see his parents do the tango. Apparently where they were from, they had been the reigning dance competition champions. A fact that was apparent when they got on the dance floor. The "floor" being the raised wooden platform adjacent to the actual patio. They had finally set down for dinner. After a few seconds Lucien turned towards Hargid, who was sitting right beside him. The large man was staring at the two in awe.

Smirking Lucien said, "What's the matter, never seen dancing before?"

"Not like that I 'aven't," He replied still staring.

"Oh yeah, they're good," said Catalina on his other side, as she showed one of her more evil grins, "But just wait until the twins hit the floor." She promptly got back to her enchilada.

Lucien wasn't looking at his food or his parents, he was still inspecting Hagrid.

"What's it like?" He said it so suddenly even he didn't notice he had spoken after a moment.

"What's what," Hagrid asked, turning away from the man and wife, who were now tapping to their own rhythm. They reminded him of cobras circling each other.

"Your world; What's it like?"

Eduardo paid immediate attention to the conversation.

"Yeh mean our world, righ'?"

Lucien looked down at his plate and shuffled the food around with his fork. He hadn't looked at it that way. "Well, yeah." A terrible thought struck him, and he suddenly paled. " I don't have to ride any brooms or anything, do I?"

He gulped and tried not to look too nervous. He had always held a terrible fear of heights. Catalina said it is called "acrophobic." Lucien didn't care what it was called; all he knew was that it sucked. Angela, along with everyone else besides Mamasita and Abuela, used to tease him about it mercilessly. One time, Marco climbed to the upmost branch on the tallest tree in the orchard and pretended to have a sprained ankle. Lucien was forced to try and "save" him. Once he reached Marco, the boy immediately jumped down and laughed as Lucien clung to the branch like a frightened kitten. After a few minutes, he realized his brother was not playing around. Lucien freaked out so bad, he fell from the tree and broke his foot. Marco wasn't allowed dessert for a month. Since then, the others eased up on the teasing. At least so badly.

Hagrid looked at him confused. "Well, ya haft'a learn at firs', Lucien." At the boy's horrified face, Hagrid hurriedly said, "But there're some students who only took the firs' class and that's it. I know some who couldn't ride a broom to save their lives."

Lucien let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and gave a weak laugh. "Good. As long as you keep those things away from me, it's all good."


	5. Nightmares and Broomsticks

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 5: Nightmares and Broomsticks

Harry

August tenth

2:21 PM

_Circe's_ _Inn_, Diagon Alley

Harry absently rubbed the handle to his Firebolt as he stared down at the people milling about below his bedroom window. _They all look so happy._ A smirk reared from cracked lips. _I'm almost jealous._

It had been several days since he woke up in the presence of his teachers. His smirk turned into a glower as he remembered what they had told him. Not about the nurse but about... Vernon. It turns out there had been a buyout of his company and the other share holders had decided he was an "unnecessary risk." They gave him the choice of either retiring or being fired. He had raised such a ruckus -punching one of them so hard he fell over backwards in his chair- that they were forced to call security. Needless to say he didn't have time to clear out his desk before the group of old bones had announced a lawsuit on the BBC. He had come home to find Harry in the kitchen and had apparently snapped.

"Hallu, Harry," a timid voice proclaimed behind him. He didn't bother turning around. He knew who it was.

Without looking he leaned the broom against the wall and crossed his arms petulantly. "Go away, Hermione. I don't want to hear anymore simperings this evening."

"Oh, that does it!"

He hadn't expected THAT. He finally turned to find an irate, bushy-haired young witch, hands on hips.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've had enough of your- your- MOPING!" She yelled the last word so loud Harry was afraid the sheer force of it would knock him out the window.

Once he had gotten his composure back his face hardened. "There's only so much pity a man can take, Hermione." He crossed his arms again.

"And you're making it SO much better by locking yourself in your room for days on end." The sarcasm oozed from her every word.

"I don't need to be around anyone!"

"Tough!"

"Don't you have babysitting to prepare for?"

She rolled her eyes towards the heavens asking a silent plea for strength, before glaring back at him. "I'm not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me."

"Can't you understand I just want to be left alone?" Harry had the sudden irrational feeling of wanting to hit her. And he almost did, raising his hand, when at the last second he sent the flowerpot by the window flying across the room. He turned to face out the window again, and wrapped his fingers around the window sill so hard his knuckles turned white.

Hermione just stood there, giving the back of his head a cool look. After a few minutes of Harry's hard breathing and the slow, monotonous clicking of the wall clock, she replied in an eerily calm voice, "When we want to be alone, that's usually when we need someone the most."

Harry couldn't handle that. He crumpled to his knees and let out a loud, long sob. He strangled out a weak, "Oh, God." He couldn't breath. His chest started to hurt. One of his hands was holding on the sill, while his other wrapped firmly around his body. "Oh God." He started to shake. Hermione walked towards him and wrapped her arms around him. He slumped fully to the floor almost sitting in her lap. She held his head to her chest as he pulled her close. He was starting to shake slightly with each sob.

They stayed like that for who knows how long. Once Harry trusted his voice enough, he whispered miserable, "What's wrong with me, Hermione?"

"Nothing, mate." Harry felt a third hand on his back.

Hermione was stroking his wild hair. How long had that been happening? "Ron's right, Harry," she said softly. "Everyone deserves a cry every now and then. You most of all."

That was when he noticed there was something slick on his cheek. He pulled back slightly to realize that he had gotten her tank wet... her very low-cut tank... to which his face was very close to. He leaned off her to sit on his knees, mumbling a quiet "sorry." His two best friends just gave each other a sad look. "Stop that," Ron said, reminding Harry so much of Mrs. Weasely that he had to smile. Harry's moment of craziness had passed. He felt infinitely better.

Harry used the moment of quiet to actually look at them. Hermione's hair seemed even _more_ curly than usual. She had filled out to fit the still slightly damp pink tank top and faded jeans with a pink border at the hem. Harry had to admit she looked good in that color. Ron while still being lanky was actually getting quite muscular through his green sleeveless. He had a lot less freckles and his hair was just a little longer, making his green eyes more pronounced. He almost looked beautiful.

_Beautiful! What the fuck?_

"Are you going to be alright now, luv?" Hermione asked, seeing his face contort.

He pushed back his thoughts and put on a shaky smile. "I really feel better, guys. I needed that." Ron beamed but Hermione only gave Harry a strange look. He looked down at his hands. "I'm just tired. You both have things to do. I'll be fine I promise." He finished at their hesitation.

"Well we _do_ have to prepare for that new student tomorrow." Hermione said, letting Ron help her to her feet. They didn't notice that Harry had to grab the sill again just to stand straight.

Ron had been about to say something to Harry when he did a double take.

"Wait what do you mean 'we?'"

"You're helping me, of course," she said absently while giving Harry a hug goodbye and a peck on the cheek.

"Since when?"

"Since you promised me a week ago that you would." She started in the general direction of the door.

Ron looked extremely flustered though following her nonetheless. "But-"

Hermione suddenly turned as if remembering something important. "Oh! Harry, do you think you're up to going outside tomorrow? I would love for you to meet this new student,"

Harry gave her a sad smile. "We'll see Hermione."

She nodded as she grabbed Ron's arm and started heading for the door again before he could protest.

"Wait," said Ron petulantly. "This student isn't a bloke is he?"

She just rolled her eyes and continued dragging the loud red-head out of the room. When the door closed Harry's smile vanished and he sagged against the window again and let out a long, deep sigh. He DID feel better. He could see things clearly again. Hermione always did that to him. His head was pounding, though, and he had the sudden need for a shower. Along with his his new found consciousness he was painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't taken one for the last two days.

Pushing himself off of the sill he trudged into the adjacent bathroom. He undressed and put on the shower. Scalding hot. He turned towards the mirror and grabbed the toothbrush. He would be going to bed after his shower anyway. Might as well get that over with now. As he dutifully cleansed his canines he gave himself a once-over. His hair was messier than normal. He looked... old. Not as old as his aches were making him to believe, however. Which was probably a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you thought of it.

His hair stuck out at all ends. That wasn't anything new, but it made him more irritated. He scrubbed furiously. His skin had taken on a pale glaze. An almost white pallor, making his eyes stand out even more. His eyes. Those were what worried him deep down. It wasn't the color, he was used to that. They just looked... empty.

When the mirror started fogging up, Harry spit and stepped into the warm embrace of the burning droplets. Hoping it could wash everything away.

After about an hour he sighed and turned it off. He toweled dry and walked back into the room. Once Harry had pulled on a pair of pajama pants, he turned and inspected the place. He had been there several weeks and he hadn't decorated it that much. The only thing different from when he arrived was Hedwig's cage and an assortment of books. The cage needed to be cleaned. The owl herself was out catching dinner so that would have been the perfect time for it. Harry didn't give a damn. He was exhausted. Thus, he had barely made it to his pillow before he passed out.

Lucien

August eleventh

7:17AM

San Francisco, California

_Nothing was touching him. No clothes, no air, no light, no warmth. It was so very cold. He didn't like it._ _There was supposed to be embers. There was supposed to be Light. There wasn't any. There was only the cold. Suddenly he felt a spark there in the nothingness. A presence that he shouldn't, couldn't ignore. He tried to open his eyes but there were no eyes to open. He reached for that glow but there were no hands to move. Then the light was there. It was blinding. For a moment that was all he was ... The Light._

"It's seven o-frickin'-clock! Wake your lazy ass, up!"

And so Lucien awoke. Without opening his eyes he growled something unintelligent and turned over. Someone had turned on the lights and he was too damn tired.

"Lucien," Marco continued much pleasingly. _"If you don't get up right now, I'm gonna ask Angie to come wake you."_

A mass of hair followed by horrified stark blue eyes shot from under the multicolored comforter. _"You wouldn't!"_

"Try me," he replied mischievously. That's when Marco gave him a closer look. "You okay, bro? You look kinda freaked."

By freaked he meant Lucien's eyes. They only ever turned that color when he was scared, truly terrified, which wasn't often. Lucien shook his head and stepped out of the covers. "Yeah I'm fine. Just had a freaky dream is all."

"What about?"

"Don't remember. Now move it so I can get ready."

Marco looked unconvinced, but he headed towards the door anyway. Before he walked out, he turned and said, "Ok, but hurry the hell up. Hagrid's been waiting for the last hour and I think Rosa's starting to scare him."

As his brother left a smirk crossed Lucien's face. _She has that effect on people,_ he thought, then immediately sobered. He had almost forgotten about the other afternoon. It all seemed so surreal now. The book, the letters everything. The letter! The book! He had forgotten all about them too! Probably because he partied so hard he had barely made it to bed the night before.

He wanted to immediately read the book his birth mom had left him but he started notice how... dingy his mouth felt. He decided his morning cleansing rituals were in order first and then on to other more important things. After a much needed mouth wash he took a quick 25 minute shower. (Well it's quick for him and he has a LOT of hair) He towel-dried himself and skillfully brushed and braided his hair. He didn't have time to dry it properly. Smirking at his reflection he did his morning mantra. _Another day, another way. _He didn't know why he thought it, but it just felt right.

After a few minutes of internal relaxation he walked back into the bedroom and grabbed some clothes he had laid out the night before. When he was finished he stood admiring himself in front of his full-length mirror on his bathroom door. He was clad in his favorite outfit. A simple white peasant top with light blue trim. His baggy jeans with the holes at the knees were held up by a blue scarf masquerading as a belt. It was tied in an expert knot at his side so no one could tell its true nature. On his feet were blue fuzzy slippers over bright rainbow socks. Adorning his right wrist was a crotched rainbow armband. Mamasita had made it for him as a joke when he had come out a few years back. It was his favorite accessory. Oh his left wrist was a watch that was entirely blue. What could he say, he liked the color.

With determination he twirled around to face the bed and checked under his pillow. The necklace was right where he had left it the night before. He slid it on and was again comforted by the soft pressure above his heart. He sat down on the bed again, suddenly tired. After a few deep breaths, he prepared himself for the moment to come.

Lucien hadn't opened his mother's book yet. There it sat looking innocent and pristine on the antique bureau adjacent to his bed. He breathed deep again and grabbed the book. He tried to open it but it was sealed shut. _What the hell?_ Then he remembered. He pulled the locket over his head again, careful for his hair, and flicked the latch with his thumb nail.

Inside was a picture of a happy couple. Lucien could tell it was a picture taken at one of those photo booths you see at a mall or carnival or something. The man was tickling someone who couldn't been seen very well. The other person was turned away to escape the torturing hands. He could see the man who was supposedly his father. Lucien stared.

There was no doubt about it, the man looked almost exactly like him! Except he had short dusty blond hair and a brilliant smile. For some reason Lucien thought he wasn't used to smiling, a least not like that. His eyes wrinkled in a funny way. Lucien couldn't see the woman very well though, just a springe of brown hair, an eye, both the exact same color as Lucien's, and a shoulder.

Lucien was stunned. He had never really cared about his birth parents. Once when he was young he asked Mamasita about them but she had said she wasn't able to meet them. The Portillo-Martinez household was the only family he had ever known.

He almost felt guilty about being curious. But he had to know. Lucien needed to know more about the people who gave him up. Yeah, his mother had said in the letter that it had been dangerous times but he still had a drive to understand.

He turned the book over resolutely and saw an imprint there. Two circles side by side one a Jesus fish the other, a cross. Exactly like the outside of the locket. He pressed the the silver treasure to the imprint and, as promised, a latch opened. With trepidation he opened the book the first page.

There Lucien saw the exact same handwriting as on his first letter. It was neat and clean. Clean, a weird word but that was what it looked like to him. There were swirls here and there decorating the paper. A flower had been almost expertly drawn in the corner. He looked at the first calligraphic letter of the page and read.

_**Fri. June 12, 1975**_

_**Dear Diary,**_

_**This is my first entry so I'll keep it short and sweet. Today sucked. (Lucien laughed out loud) The teacher is a total dweeb. He gave me homework on the first day! A reading assignment. Easy, yeah, but still it's the principle of the thing. You don't give work on the first day. And not on a Friday either! That, like, goes against everything the world stands for... Then this psycho kept hitting on me.-shiver- I don't get why I attract people like that. OH! OH! And then I get HOME and Da lays into me about being a "good Catholic child in the eyes of god." I'm like "What on earth does that mean?" Of course I didn't actually say that.-Le sigh- I guess I'll just have to grin and bear it. Life goes on and so does my drama... I hate being 15... Well I'm heading to bed. Night!**_

_**Sun. June 13, 1975**_

_**Dear Diary,**_

**_Could Da get any more preachy?... Kinda redundant since he's a Preacher and all, but still! We immediately got home from church when he starts telling me all the things I did wrong during the service. Like how I wasn't "bowing low enough" or I "walked too fast during the processional" or, my constant favorite, I "rang the bell too loud." I'm getting a migraine. Gonna take some penicillins then finish my homework. Well I haven't started it so I guess I should say starting my homework, shouldn't I? _**

_**Mon. June 21, 1975**_

Dear- 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Lucien nearly fell off the bed. Someone was pounding on the door. He carefully put the book down, ran over and yanked it open only to find Annita grinning up at him. "Move it, _guapo. _We're STILL waiting!"

"I'll be down in a minute," he replied smiling. He was just relieved that it wasn't Angela.

After closing the door gingerly he walked over to the bed and closed the book. He had to search for his bags. It took him all of 10 minutes, but eventually, shouting victoriously, he found them huddled behind the bean bag. Wasting all of one second to wonder how they could have possibly made their way there, he yanked his smallest one that held his personal items; shampoo, mouse, brush, loofa, his i-pod things like that. Plus a small rainbow colored photo album with pictures of everyone. The bag was shaped like a bunny. He reached behind the bean bag again and grabbed the second largest that he would use for carrying his books from class to class. On the one side was a witch flying across the moon with the words "Something Wicked" trailing from the broom, on the other was a cat with bright green eyes. They were patches made from an old shirt of Eduardo's. It was a present given the night before. Lucien had always liked the shirt but could never get his brother to part with it.

A grin lit up his face as he saw the odds and ends adorning a looped chain that went across the side of the bag, right above the picture of the cat. The previous night, the twins had disappeared to buy 11 charms that represented each of their brothers and sisters as well as themselves. Abuela had appointed them because they both had a discerning eye for detail. After the party they presented the effigies in all their glory.

Now, Lucien ran his hands over each one of them in turn trying to commit them to memory. The twin's trinkets were attached together on the same loop. A charm of a pillow and a tree hung limply in his hands. He moved on to the next one that represented Alejandro; a shooting star. Lucien grinned but rolled his eyes. _That's original_. The next one was Catalina's which was of course a small book. It was salvaged from an unused Scooby Doo Clue game. The words "Spells and Potions" was on the tiny silver cover. Pedro's was a tiny set of nun chucks which were hung by the middle to made them dangle. He flipped at them with his fingers for a while until he noticed a small key right beside the tiny trinket. At first he was confused when he realized that it must have been Alberto's. He made a mental note to ask Angel about it later. Eduardo's was a small pouch. Inside was a quartz clear and twisting. A charm of a paint brush was obviously Annita's. Marco's was a smiley face. Carlos's was a horse... _WTF. _He made another mental note to ask. The last one was right at the very end hanging by a pink safety pin. It was a crown that represented Rosa. Because she was a princess. Inside the larger bag was wrapped cloth that held different things that represented his Abuela and parents. But left that for later. He wanted to check the Bunny Bag again to see if it was fully clean.

He had just picked it up when it suddenly moved. He nearly threw the thing across the room when he heard a loud "MROW!" _No, _he thought, disbelievingly. Setting it down gently he unzipped the already loosened zipper (When did that happen?) the rest of the way. Inside, he found the family cat, Vene, sitting comfortably on a large rainbow towel. The cat had always been small. He was the runt of the litter, forever looking like a kitten. He had sleek, black fur that made him almost invisible at night if his eyes weren't open. Problem was, he could get anywhere he wanted and damn did those claws hurt. After Lucien had gotten over his confusion, he reached in and lifted the sleepy feline out.

"_Vene, you can't come. I don't think there are any pets allowed." _He said it with extreme guilt as Vene's ears drooped farther and his yellow eyes got larger.

"_Si, Diablo," _A voice sounded behind making him squeeze poor Vene. Lucien jumped as he was clawed and dropped Vene back into the bag.

"_But it did say you needed a familiar. I thought Senor el Gato Venenoso would do nicely." _He turned around to find Abuela standing there. He didn't even notice the door opening! Damn he was getting ditsy. Then he processed what she had said.

"You mean it!? He can come!?" At her nod Lucien pounced her in a fierce hug. He could still take a piece of home with him. Something alive. Something that could respond back to him. A thought crept its way into his head. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her. "Won't Cura and everyone else miss him?"

"_She and the rest of us can somehow manage. Come on, get your stuff and let's go downstairs. It's time to say goodbye._"

A sense of foreboding filled him as he padded down the cream colored carpeted stairs. He reached up to his shoulder to pet Vene for consolation. The cat purred reassuringly. In a part of his mind it felt like he was going down step by step to his own personal Hell. He was leaving everything he had ever known his entire life for months on end. He didn't think he could bear not hearing about a brand new book that Catalina found in an out of the way old bookstore, or seeing Annita's face as she stood at a canvas and painted for hours on end, or Pedro practicing a ridiculously complicated muay thai technique in the back yard. With each step he counted each of the people in his family and what exactly about them he would miss. They would all write to him just as he would write at least a letter a day, but it wouldn't be the same thing. At one point he nearly turned around. The only thing that stopped him was Abuela's firm yet comforting grasp on his unoccupied shoulder. His free hand found his way to hers. She was his anchor now as she had been many times before.

When they reached the bottom, he couldn't stop himself from snickering just a little at the display. It looked like an excerpt from Sound of Music. Each of his brothers and sisters were arranged before him in a straight line from oldest to youngest. He walked up to the display and without a word hugged everyone in turn until he got to Rosa. She was a vision of depression. Her hands were behind her back, her foot was scuffing the floor and she refused to look at him. She wore the pink overalls with yellow flower pattern going up the leg and a bunny on the pocket Lucien had gotten her last Easter. It was her favorite. For the first time since Hagrid had shown up Lucien grinned. He lifted her up, careful not to disturb Vene too much, and set her on his hip. She looked at him finally and her eyes were filled with tiny, unshed tears.

He only said one simple sentence. "See you next Christmas, kiddo." Her entire face lit up with a grin.

Lucien set her down and walked towards the door until his Mamasita's voice sounded in the room. "Where ya going, sweetie?" Giggles resounded the room.

He turned slowly. "Uh... To Hagrid's car...?" He trailed off as he saw the malicious look in his family's eyes.

Poor Hagrid looked confused yet again and gestured towards the large alabaster fireplace. "We're goin' by floo 'course."

Lucien deadpanned, "By what now?"


	6. Bedrooms and Banks

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 6 Bedrooms and Banks

Lucien

August Eleventh

3:23 PM

Diagon Alley

"Wow," Lucien muttered as he collapsed into a conveniently placed chair. "I did not like that."

The Floo way of traveling was not one of his favorite things at the moment. It left him disoriented and groggy. Hagrid, who had to bend over so he wouldn't hit the ceiling, chuckled and patted Lucien firmly on the shoulder, sending his head forward into new dizzy lights. Lucien winced but Hagrid didn't notice.

"Ya get use'ta tha' as ya keep usin' it."

The boy inwardly shuddered at the thought. He took a moment to look around the room as Hagrid pulled his bags out of the fireplace. They were in what seemed like a living room at the moment. A small table sat in the corner with a bouquet of lilies on it. Lucien smoothed his hands over the arms of the antique chair. It had a floral pattern. There were two couches of the same pattern beside the fireplace and a coffee table in front of them. Lucien was sure he could do his aerobic exercises in this room and not touch anything. There were two doors. One on the other side of the room, the other on the right wall. The bedroom door was opened slightly.

Lucien pushed himself off of the chair to further inspect his new quarters. He fully opened the bedroom door and looked at the antique bed, book table and oil lamp on the far side. It was huge room, with another fireplace and chair beside it. If he looked closely at the walls he could see the beige wallpaper had arrows on it. The "room", despite the size the place, seemed like any normal B and B suite. It felt cozy. His heart throbbed painfully as his brain thought, _It would be cozier if it was home._

Lucien walked through the threshold and sat on the bed; squishy. Lucien loved squishy beds. He felt a resounding thump as Vene jumped off his shoulder to land gracefully on the floor, obviously to look around too. He suddenly remembered that the cat hadn't reacted at all to the green flames. He glared suspiciously at Vene as the feline started playing with the long, tassels of the maroon window drapes. Lucien smirked and berated himself for being stupid. After all, it's just a cat.

"This is only fer the night, lad." Hagrid said as he appeared at the door. "So we can pick up yer tutor."

Lucien did a double take from looking at Vene again. "Why for only one night? And what's this tutor like? He isn't a total brain, is he?"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. One at a time. The reason yer only staying the night is 'cause yer goin' to Hogwarts firs' thing in the mornin'. Yeh need ta get acquainted with the building and rules and such. Yer tutor's one Hermione Granger and SHE is one of me best pals." Hagrid leaned in closer to Lucien so the boy could see his blue eyes flash dangerously. "So yeh better treat her with respect, boy."

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Lucien slid back. "Yes, sir."

Hagrid stood up straight -as straight as he could at least- and was about to say something but he was interrupted by Lucien's stomach growling loudly. The room was quiet all of 3 seconds until Hagrid let out a loud guffaw. "I forgot yeh missed breakfast, lad!" He looked at the clock on the wall and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Blimey, it's almost 4:30. No wonder yer hungry! I'll let ye get dressed then we can go ta get some food and yer things."

Lucien jumped off the bed right before Vene gracefully slid onto one of the pillows, obviously not at all in the mood for an afternoon romp. Lucien smiled at his familiar before replying to Hagrid just as the large man was about to step out the door, "Oh, I am dressed. Let me get my book bag and I'll be ready."

Hagrid laughed again thinking it must be a joke, until he saw Lucien indeed getting his bag with a witch and charms on it. The half-giant blushed crimson. "Oh. Well... I guess we'll be goin' then. Here's yer keys."

Lucien wasn't offended by his new friend's hesitancy. He was used to people being surprised by his state of dress. He didn't think he looked like a girl in any stretch of the imagination, but apparently the rest of the world disagreed. Many a time was it that when he and some friends went dancing he was hit on by SOOOO many guys. He danced but once they found out he was actually of the male variety most of them ran scared, proclaiming their heterosexuality.

As Lucien gently put the bag of his parents gifts on the table he took the keys from Hagrid. He looked at them this way and that. The first one was a thick bronze skeleton key with intricate swirls ringing the handle ending with a blood red bauble at the end. He thought he saw something inside the bauble and brought it to his eye. Floating inside, in small cursive letters were the words. "Welcome to _The Centaur's Herald._ If you need anything do not hesitate to pull the bell located on the right side of your front door, and a house elf will see to whatever you may desire. If you do not wish for a house elf ring the larger bell located on the left side of your front door. Please enjoy your stay. The Management." And in even tinier scrawl were the letters "231." Lucien assumed that it was for his room. The second key wasn't so remarkable. It was a simple silver skeleton key. Nothing truly extraordinary about it. He raised it up to Hagrid and said, "What's it do?"

"Tha's the key to yer vault at Gringots."

"...Vault? I have a vault? Since when do I have a vault?"

"For yer bank account. I set it up for yeh. And don't worry neither. Yer parents left yeh more than enough."

Lucien blushed and managed to mumble out a "thank you" before walking out after Hagrid and locking the door. Sometimes it bothered him that his parents earned so much more than the average American. It's part of the reason he never made any close friends. He's one of the happiest people he knows but it wasn't his personality people cared about. Half of the people he knew outside of his family disliked him because they thought he was a spoiled little rich kid the other half just got close to him because of his money regardless of what they thought of Lucien himself. No one actually took the time to truly get to know him. He suddenly came to the decision.

"Hagrid," he said carefully as they started down the stairs, "Can you do me a favor and not tell anyone about how much money my family has? I mean, you saw my house. It can be a little intimidating. I guess you could say that I want to make a fresh start. It's my experience that people treat me differently when they find out. I just want to be a normal kid and I have a feeling I can't do that if people see me as a snob or try to use me." When Hagrid stopped in front of him, Lucien thought he was being hesitant and pressed on, "Didn't you ever have a secret as a kid? One that you KNOW people would treat you less than human for if they knew?"

By the time he was done they had made it to the dining room. Hagrid suddenly spun and gave Lucien a bear hug so fierce, his feet were hanging off the ground and he swore he would have bruises in a few hours. "Yer secret's safe with me, I promise! I know exactly what yeh mean. S'not easy being different." He put the boy down and sniffled. "Let's get yeh sommat ta eat."

Lucien smiled and rubbed his arms as he followed Hagrid. He was liking this man more and more. There was something about his child-like attitude that was just appealing. His willingness to help Lucien was a refreshing break from big city life.

Half an hour later they were leaving _The Centaur's Herald _with full stomachs and happy hearts. Since they had sat down at the table Lucien was full of questions about the wizarding world. Hagrid answered as best he could but Lucien found what he said at times lacking. He made small mental notes to ask his new mentor, Hermione, to explain a few things. Lucien had been extremely careful about the subject of brooms. He didn't need images like that in his head.

Hagrid explained they were in Diagon Alley. Lucien couldn't believe where he was. The place was huge and crowded. In some ways it reminded of a mix between Salem and San Fransisco. Overcrowded and full of people in pointy hats and robes. It seemed to Lucien that Hagrid barely had room to navigate. If it weren't for the braided boy's dexterity he would have been surely jostled this way and that. But Lucien swore he would have a crick in his neck come morning. He kept trying to see the different shops. He also made sure to remember certain places when he saw something for his family. Like an apothecary store where he would buy stuff for his Abuela or Angel or a shop that sold crystals would have been perfect for Eduardo.

It wasn't until Hagrid said the words "There 'tis," and pointed that Lucien tore his eyes away from a bookstore that was having a major sale he was surveying for Catalina to look straight ahead of them. Lucien's jaw was slowly dropping with each step as they processed. The building in front of him was ridiculously slanted to the right. Come to think of it all the buildings were leaning. He didn't see how a structure like that could stay erect. It looked like it was about to fall in any minute. _Duh, stupid,_ he said to himself as he rolled his eyes. _You're in a magical world. Use your head._ When they reached the white marbled stoop of the twisted, deformed building Lucien's astonishment continued to build. Against his will he found himself blurting out, "_This_ is a bank!"

Hagrid chose to ignore this and suddenly stopped his companion, forcing him to face him."The goblins that run this bank are a mite touchy... well most goblins are as a whole – but my point is, try not to make 'em mad. T'would be a right dangerous thing ta do."

Lucien could only squeak back, "Goblins?"

Hagrid just shook his head in what the boy hopefully thought was amusement and pushed him inside the double doors only to be met by another set. Above these was a plaque. Lucien decided to take a moment to calm down by reading it. _Wow. Morbid much._

Inside was a long hallway with two rows of small grotesque midgets on each side. Warty little fellows. They were tapping away at typewriters or stamping angrily at papers, not a one looking up at the two odd people entering. Eventually at the end of the rows was a desk/podium with one of those midgets – er goblins behind it.

Hagrid stood up straight and said with authority, "We're here for the account Mr. Lucien uh..."

"Jose Portillo-Martinez." Lucien supplied for him when he looked flustered.

The goblin leaned down and glared over the large podium at Lucien. "Key, please," he (at least Lucien hoped it was a "he")sneered down his long nose at the brunette.

Noticing goosebumps rising on his skin and feeling just a little intimidated, Lucien fished the key out of his pocket and held it up without his usual witty retort. The goblin snatched it and held the key up to the light turning it this way and that. He humhped, seeming satisfied and handed it to another goblin standing beside the podium that Lucien hadn't seen before. This goblin bowed forcing Lucien to smother a giggle and spoke in a high yet gravely voice, "My name is Griphook. I will be taking you to your vault. Follow me please." With that he promptly spun on his toes and walked down a hallway through yet another set of double doors.

_What service,_ Lucien thought as he inspected the decor a bit more. All the bricks were perfectly centered, there were no chasms in the floor and there were no patches in the roof. All in all there was no inward sign that the entire building seemed to have the same designer as the leaning tower of Pisa. It seemed a nice enough place as as banks go. Lucien, because of his parents, had seen much bigger. He personally couldn't imagine working in such a stifling setting. He wondered if there were any employed here of the human variety.

Just then Hagrid let out a loud yell of excitement. "Oi! Bill! Over here." He started waving his arms excitedly.

Lucien brought his eyes in front of him to see a very lanky punk-rocker seeming to step out of a room in the hallway right before he saw a whisp of gold hair disappear around the corner. This Bill person looked slightly flushed and was adjusting the bottom of his shirt as he made his way towards them. He wore a grin. Somehow, Lucien doubted it was because of Hagrid. Lucien wasn't attracted to the screamer rock types but he had to admit the guy was cute in a thrown together sort of way. He especially liked the cool earring. Totally not someone he pictured working in a bank though.

Hagrid and Bill clasped hands before the larger of the two turned towards him. Hagrid flourished his hand in Lucien's direction and said, "Bill Weasley I'd like you to meet one of the new students -"

"Lucien Portillo-Martinez," Lucien held out his hand, letting his new friend off the hook. Most people couldn't pronounce his name or even remember it, much less someone with such a heavy accent.

They shook hands briefly as a glint filled Bill's eyes."Oh yeah! The one Hermione's tutoring. Wow what a mouthful."

Lucien laughed and decided to let the glint go. He figured he would find out what it was about soon enough. "Mine's not so bad. You should hear my youngest sisters' full name."

"Youngest? So you have a lot of siblings?"

He grinned. "Seven brothers and 4 sisters. So far. I'm the eldest."

The two men just stood there for a few minutes staring at him before Hagrid blurted out "Yeh mean all those other young 'uns were yer brothers and sisters. Blimey I thought they was yer cousins or the neighbor kids or summat."

Bill scratched his head and said in an amazed tone, "Bloody Hell. And I thought I had it bad."

Lucien couldn't help but laugh. "Actually, I love it. They're my best friends. I personally don't know what I'd do without them." He sobered and held his bag a little closer to his side.

Bill smiled sympathetically. "I know how you feel mate," he said placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's only for a year. And not even that, you can see them on holidays and the like."

Lucien was about to reply in gratitude when he was interrupted by a loud "Ahe-hem!"

They turned to find a perturbed goblin tapping his foot on the marble tiles. He stood up straight and gestured down the hall. "If you wouldn't mind, sirs, we are on a tight schedule." He glared at Bill. "And we don't have time for disruptions."

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Gripper. I was just here for my new assignment. Bye, Hagrid. It was nice meeting you Lucien. Hope to see you around." And with that he was gone.

Lucien looked up at Hagrid quizzically as they started moving again. When the man didn't get the point Lucien asked, "Assignment?"

"Oh, yeah. Bill does work for Gringots," Hagrid replied in a whisper.

Griphook let out a loud laugh and mumbled something indistinct.

"What was that?" Lucien liked the cool guy and felt a need to come to his defense.

"Step into the cart please," the goblin said haughtily, pointedly ignoring his question.

They had come to an underground passage of some kind. A railroad cart like you see in cartoon mines was on the tracks. The side closest to them swung open and steps detracted from it. Once Lucien was in he looked back at Hagrid who had turned slightly pale. "I think I'll stay out here if it's alright."

Griphook nodded and pointed to the right. "There is a waiting area around the corner. You may retire there if you wish. But do not leave the room."

Lucien was about to protest when the steps retracted and the door shut nearly slamming on his fingers. And with that they were off.

Besides the roller-coaster ride the rest of the bank visit was pretty much uneventful. He got his money, went back to the lobby, got Hagrid and walked out. They had a while to go until dinner and Lucien was feeling peckish so they stopped by a stand that sold candy. Hagrid recommended the Chocolate frogs. Lucien fell in love with them immediately. He also liked the idea of moving pictures. His first card was Dumbledore. He stared at it and exclaimed, "Hey that's the dude on my letter. Cool. _And he moves! Kick-ass!_" making Hagrid laugh but look around nervously as a witch moved her two small children farther away. Lucien would cherish the card always.

Lucien bought some Bertie Bott's Every Flavored beans and a few more frogs and they started walking again. When Hagrid came to an abrupt stop, Lucien very nearly ran into him. Hagrid turned around and pointed to the faded sign above the door to a shop. Lucien popped a grass flavored bean in his mouth and looked up at a faded gold sign that said, "Ollivander's: Makers of fine wands since 382 BC"

"We're here for my wand," he asked, excitement stretching his voice.

"'Course, we are," Hagrid explained in exasperation. "Yeh can't be a wizard without a wand." His face fell and he gripped his pink umbrella a little tighter. "Ya know what, Lucien, if yeh can give me some of yer money, I'ma go get yer books. It's a little too crowded in there, and I think it's obvious I like large spaces. I'll meet yeh on that bench over there when yer done. Ta. " Hagrid gathered the money that Lucien Held out to him and before Lucien could say anything he was off.

Confused and a little worried, this was the second time this had happened after all, he stepped through the door heralding the ringing of a tiny gold bell. Inside it was practical chaos. That's the only way he could describe it. Shelves piled with boxes were displayed as far as the eye could see. In one of the corners a small mound of boxes were strewn. He looked closely and saw an equally small pile of sticks beside the boxes. _Ooooh, cool!_ He thought taking a step closer. _Wands._

"Ah, what have we here? Another student perhaps?"

Lucien jumped, squeaked and dropped his bag. He twirled and crouched into a defensive position that his brother had taught him before seeing it was an old man. Holding his hand over his heart he glared at the man who had seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Don't do that!" He snapped thoroughly out of sorts. Lucien hadn't realized he was on such a hair-pin trigger.

Taking a moment to catch his breath he looked the minuscule little man up and down. He was about the same height as Lucien but only by a few inches. His clothes were rumpled but fairly new. Lucien couldn't resist staring at his face. His expression almost seemed dazed yet currently amused. The way he moved was a little wobbly. Lucien caught his eyes and fought to catch his breath again. Those eyes were so intense. Almost as if he was looking at something inside the boy.

Lucien shivered but relaxed and picked up his bag. When he stood back up again the man was right in front of him. Lucien was very proud of himself for not jumping and dropping his bag again.

The man held out a hand. "How do you do, my dear boy? I am Olivander."


	7. Hermosa

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 7: Hermosa

Lucien

August Eleventh

4:47 PM

Diagon Alley

The man held out his hand. "How do you do, my dear boy? I am Olivander." His voice was far off and his eyes never left Lucien's face.

"Uh... Yo. Heard this was the place to go for wands." _Damn was that stupid. _What else could he say? _Oh, yeah_. "Lucien Portillo-Martinez." He took his hand.

"Ah, yes. The new student at Hogwarts. I've been waiting for you." He paused and looked at Lucien even more closely making, Lucien want to back up but Olivander still hadn't let go of his hand. "I have been waiting for quite a while."

He suddenly released Lucien's hand and walked past towards a particularly dark hallway between shelves. At least they looked dark to Lucien. Olivander turned and raised his eyebrows at him before he turned back and was out of sight. Lucien hesitated only a moment before following him. _I'm just too frickin curious for my own good._ As soon as he turned the corner he was confronted by a simple wooden door. _Wow._ He opened it to find what seemed like a plain reading room. On the far side of the room was a long book shelf, in the center was a chair and table with an oil lamp on it. Olivander was standing in front of the book shelf staring at the row on his eye level. "Aha," he suddenly shouted and pulled a grey book. Lucien was too far away to read the title but he could somewhat see the cool design on the side.

That didn't matter when the entire shelf turned around to show a simple brown brick wall. Except for six differently colored bricks in a circular pattern. The bricks were black, green, blue, yellow, white and red. They were spread out along the wall to form the shape of a large David's Star. Lucien, stunned, stepped closer and raised his hand as if to touch it. He pulled back at the last second knowing he shouldn't come in contact with the wall just yet. This close he could see that some of the bricks had a knob on it, like a drawer. He could also see that the black, green, and white ones had no handles.

"Choose one," Olivander said with a gleam in his eye.

"What?" Lucien asked momentarily stunned.

"Come now, boy, I know you're not stupid. Choose a wand."

Lucien stepped back to look at all of the drawers again. _There are wands in there. One of them's mine._ The feeling was almost overwhelming. He decided to act on instinct. Dropping his bag, he breathed deeply and walked to the far right side of the wall. He held his hand about 3 inches away from the bricks, closed his eyes and walked.

He could feel something inside pulling away from him as he came to certain parts of the wall. He knew that these were the ones with the wands in them. It was like they were calling to him. Begging like a puppy in a pound that wants to be taken home with you. He smiled but kept walking. _Suddenly he felt as if the world had been stripped away, like he had fallen through a hole. His heart was beating fast in his chest. He opened his eyes to see he was surrounded by light and-_ Lucien yanked his hand back with a surprised yell. When he looked in front of him he saw the red brick.

He shivered and pulled on the knob, screwed his face and braced himself. Nothing happened. He opened one eye. There was nothing extraordinary about the brick-drawer except that it came from a wall. Lucien opened both eyes and reached inside, feeling around for a bit. Finally his hand came in contact with something smooth and hard. When his hand came out there was a _wand _in it. He looked back at the wall and the stone drawer closes shut with a resounding "thump." The bronze handle seemed to shift and melt into the brick. The red color lost it's shine and became dull as if in time. Again he stood there, stunned.

An impatient sigh came from behind him making him jump. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Turning he found Olivander smiling gently. He had forgotten the old man was there.

"Give it a whirl."

Lucien looked at his wand in his hand. _My wand. _Lucien smiled and raised it above his head. He spun his hand once. At first nothing happened then he could feel something warm melting over him starting from his feet. When it came to the top of his head a burst of red sparks shot from the tip of the wand and showered around him. Slowly the sparks slid together to form a type of barrier. A solid red bubble now surrounded him. It was inches from his body but he didn't feel trapped at all. It was more like a warm hug.

The barrier started to close around him even more but he wasn't alarmed. Quite the contrary. He felt giddy. Somehow the red seemed like a an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time. Once he felt like he was the happiest he'd ever been the barrier melted away. He stood there for a minute or two with his hand raised above his head enjoying the moment. Slowly, ever so slowly he lowered his arm. A smile appeared on his face. He felt calmed somehow as if this was an experience of pure unadulterated bliss. A single tear slid down his cheek. He quickly swiped it away and turned to confront Olivander, who looked inexplicably pleased with himself.

"Excellent choice, my boy. This lovely specimen is made from the bone of a fire demon. A feather from an Arabian-"

Lucien did a double take, and interrupted him, quickly getting over his life altering experience. "Woah, woah. Time out. I'm holding a bone?" He held it up to prove his point.

"Oh, yes. It also contains, embedded under the surface, the wing feather from an Arabian phoenix. The hair from the underside of a dragon is inlaid into it. But the interesting thing about this wand is that it was soaked in the tears of the sister of the fire demon it had once belonged to."

"Yeah that's all nice and cool and all but in my hand, what I'm holding, it belonged to a living being?"

"Only part of him. I assure you, he didn't feel a thing. If you're squeamish about it now, I'm sorry to say that there's nothing to do for it. You couldn't possibly put it back."

Lucien gripped the wand tighter feeling possessive all of a sudden. He looked back at the brick that he had gotten it from and said dazedly, "No, I don't want to put it back. I just was surprised is all."

"Well I should say so!" He exclaimed. "That wand cannot be lost or broken in any way. In any case you must treat it with respect." Ollivander's face turned instantly serious. It was as if some one had pulled a switch. "Listen to me now, boy. You must swear, on whatever it is you find sacred, to not tell a soul what you have experienced on this plane. Only the True One can hear of your actions here today."

When Ollivander mentioned what was sacred to him the first thing Lucien thought of were his brothers and sisters. He shoved them out of his head as he nodded.

"Excellent." The dazed and intense look suddenly reappeared on Ollivander's face as he walked to the other side of the room. Olivander opened the door , turned and called back. "Now I'm afraid I have another customer waiting for me, so you'll have to be going."

Next thing Lucien knew he was out on the street with his bag slung over his arm. He didn't even remember walking through the front door. He looked at the bench but found that Hagrid hadn't gotten back yet. Lucien remembered the book shop that was having a sale around the corner and figured that was his best bet.

He felt dazed and looked at the wand in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. It was dark red, almost maroon. Smooth as if it had been polished yesterday. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Lucien was almost completely engrossed with inspecting his new wand but as he started down the street he felt as if someone was watching him again. He looked around him but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well any more than you could find in a place inhabited by magical beings. He shrugged it off and kept walking.

When he got to the book store he spotted Hagrid immediately. It's not like it was hard. The larger man seemed to be very irritated and Lucien instantly connected it to his current companion. A tall platinum-blond haired man was talking to Hagrid. He was in all black, including a long cloak, and was holding a cane with a silver snake handle. Lucien usually had a good eye for the kind of people he would like and he did not like this man at all. He seemed... oily somehow. Lucien dropped his wand in his long side pocket and decided to come to his friend's rescue.

"Hagrid!" Lucien started jumping up and down as he made his way through the crowded bookstore. When he got there Blondie's sneer had transformed into a scowl and Lucien felt proud that he was the cause of it. Turning his back to Blondie, knowing it would piss him off more, Lucien gave Hagrid a warning look reminding him that they were in a public place.

"Those my books? Wow, they look heavy." He twirled to face the other... man. "Hi there. Names Lucien." He didn't offer his hand.

The sneer reappeared like magic but this time it was different somehow. Lucien had to suppress a shiver. "Ah yes, the new... student. Lucius Malfoy. I believe you are about the same age as my son." Lucius held out the hand not occupying the cane seeming not to notice Lucien's bad manners.

Lucien didn't like the way Lucius had said "student." Like it was an amusing swear word. Lucien held down his revulsion and took hold of the proffered hand. He quickly found himself in close proximity with this Lucius Malfoy.

"What unique eyes you have, Lucien." Indeed Lucius was staring straight into his eyes practically whispering. He was almost breathing in Lucien's face.

But Lucien had gotten fiercer looks from the milkman. He glared back as hard as he could knowing his eyes were turning a cloudy navy blue as they always did when he was mad. "I get them from my mother."

Lucius seemed stunned for a moment before Hagrid jumped in. "Now see here, Malfoy. That's enough. The boy needs to get fitted."

Lucius stepped back, still slightly stunned before giving Lucien a nod in farewell and another scowl in Hagrid's direction as he left in a billowing of black cloth. Lucien didn't realize he was shaking until Hagrid put a hand on his shoulder. "You alrigh', there?"

"I didn't like him." Was all Lucien said in reply. He whirled around. "Those paid for?" At Hagrid's nod he took half the pile. They were heavy and he could have put them in his bag but he needed something to occupy his hands. He had a feeling he was being cold but he felt angry somehow. No, he was seething. He wanted to punch something and he knew he needed to calm down first.

He nodded for Hagrid to lead the way. The large man hesitated for a moment then asked, "You sure you're alrigh' Lucien?"

Lucien forced himself to relax and give Hagrid a tired smile. "I'm fine, buddy. He just made me feel weird is all."

"Too righ'! He was acting strange, he was. Well, stranger than the usual Malfoy, at least." Seeming satisfied he walked towards the fitting shop.

Again the next hour was spent without incident but when they got back to the inn Lucien was hungry again. So he asked Hagrid to wait for him in the dining room. He brought the books and robes up to the room and picked up Vene who was sleeping happily on the pillow.

Walking downstairs, with poor Vene trailing groggily behind him, he found Hagrid with someone else at the table. _Man, this guy sure knows a lot of people._ When he got closer however he saw it wasn't a someone at all. It was a girl around his own age. Bushy hair and bright smile. She was engaging Hagrid in a vigorous conversation. _At least he likes this visitor better than the last,_ Lucien thought taking in Hagrid's relaxed and happy appearance.

Adopting a smile, he walked towards them. As he got closer he heard the girl talking animatedly. "And you should have seen Ron trying to keep a straight face when I started telling him about my assignment. He was beat red. I know it's cruel but sometimes it's just too amusing torturing that boy!"

By this time he had gotten to the table. Lucien decided immediately that he would like her. He laughed making Hermione, that was who he assumed it was, jump and turn in her seat.

Hagrid smiled and gestured towards Lucien. "Hermione, meet your new student, Lucien. Lucien, say hello to Hermione Granger, the smartest witch I've ever had the pleasure of meetin'."

Standing up, Hermione turned an adorable shade of pink. "He's exaggerating, I'm sure." She shook Lucien's outstretched hand.

"That's a lie Hermione, and yeh know it! Don't believe it Lucien, there's not a better witch to tutor yeh that I can think of." Hagrid crossed his arms and looked at Hermione as if daring her to challenge him.

She laughed and sat down so she could reach to swat Hagrid's arms. "Fine then, you stubborn man." Turning back to Lucien, who had by now grabbed another chair for himself, she put on a obviously false air or primness. "I make superb grades, thank you." She whirled on Hagrid and glared good naturedly. "Happy now?"

He uncrossed his arms and nodded his head firmly. "'Bout time yeh admitted it, too."

Lucien laughed again when the poor child put her head in her hand. "I should just give up shouldn't, I, Lucien?"

"That seems safest for the moment, Hermione."

After a few seconds Hagrid looked between them and stretched exaggeratedly. "I gots to get me some sleep, you guys. Need to wake up brigh' and early t'morrow. You two jus' stay here and get acquainted, and I'll see yeh both later. Oh, Lucien, try the butterbeer here. It's good."

Hermione looked disappointed. "Oh, Hagrid, must you? We haven't had much time together this summer."

"'Fraid so. I have a new patch of Hollowpicks that need lookin' after. But I'll see yeh soon."

"Of course, I've just missed you. Have a safe trip back."

It was Hagrid's turn to blush. "I'll see yeh later, Hermione. Bye Lucien."

They waved goodbye and neither spoke for a moment until Lucien piped up, "Well... that was subtle."

Hermione laughed. "Subtlety has never been Hagrid's strong suit."

That was when their waitress decided to finally show up. She also decided to stand uncomfortably close to Lucien. He looked up and had to keep from flinching. She was a teenage girl. She had straight, obviously fake blond hair, and was wearing a bright vermilion halter top which clashed with her overly tanned skin. He was momentarily afraid her breasts would pop out and attack him. Her skirt was just a little too tight and a a lot too short. The make up was thankfully sparse except for yellow glitter as eyeshadow and shimmering red lipstick. Her nameplate said "Apolla." _Hooker name, _Lucien thought to himself. He couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or run.

She grinned to show disturbingly white teeth and asked Lucien if they were ready to order.

"Well I ate here earlier but I don't remember the menus. I'd like some butterbeer to drink, though. Oh and can you get some milk for my cat?" Vene decided at that moment to jump up on the table between Hermione and Apolla.

Apolla, smiled with her too-white teeth, and patted Vene's head. "'Course, love." She turned to Hermione. "And for you... ma'am?" Lucien was surprised how her voice suddenly deadpanned when she spoke to Hermione. When she called Hermione "ma'am" she seemed to have a hard time pronouncing it. He wanted to slap the glitter off her face but held his cool. He was raised to treat women with respect, no matter who they were.

Hermione for her part smiled and said. "The same would be fine. Thank you."

"Right then. I'll be right back with your menus and drinks." With a final pat on Vene's head and a bat of the eyelashes to Lucien she bustled away through the growing crowd.

"Jeez." Lucien exclaimed, though not so loud as to attract the Breast Beast again. "What a bitch-whore."

Hermione nodded and leaned in to whisper. "She doesn't like me very much, I'm afraid. She's the manager's daughter. Unfortunately, I had an altercation with him earlier this morning on the subject of the servitude of the houselves of this establishment. Although I doubt that was the reason for her ire." She gave him a pointed look.

Before he could reply Apolla came back on Lucien's other side with their drinks and dropped menus in front of them. Well, she tossed it at Hermione and handed it to Lucien making sure to bend just far enough. She reached over him unnecessarily to put a saucer of milk in front of an obviously impatient Vene. Finally she straightened and pulled out a notepad. "Would you like to order now?" She leaned again and stage whispered near Lucien conspiratorially showing off her killer bongos. "I'm sorry if you think I'm rushing you, love, but it's getting crowded." It was plain to see that she wasn't just talking about the room.

Lucien smiled indulgently and nodded. "I have no problem ordering now. Hermione?" When she shook her head he continued. "Ok then. Could I have _a gigante- _I mean large cheeseburger with sweet pickles, bacon, _jalapenos, _onions, mustard, mayo, ketchup, lettuce and a Cesar salad on the side? Oh! And some crisped potatoes in melted cheddar cheese, please. And my friend wants..." He raised his eyebrows at her and waited expectantly. Hermione gulped and put her hand over her stomach. "Just a large Cesar salad is fine, thank you."

Apolla gave Lucien one last blinding smile as she sashayed away yet again with their orders.

"Good lord! I must say Lucien, I'm quite jealous that you can keep that size and eat like that."

"It comes from long years of practice."

Hermione smirked and sipped at her straw. "Regardless of her attitude, she _was_ pretty."

He shrugged absentmindedly as he looked around the dinning room. He took a drag of his drink and was woefully disappointed when he found it was non alcoholic. "I guess, but she's not my type. I mean I would like to be able to breath if she ever hugged me. Or stepped within 2 feet of me. She was right about this place being kinda crowded, though. Getting loud in here."

"She had an amazing body and was wearing a top that would make Liberache look like a dullard. Is there another place we can go?"

"True, but I make it a point to never date anyone with a sexier body than me. I also like someone with a better IQ than Magilla Gorilla." He looked back at her and smirked. "Wanna get out of here and piss her off at the same time?"

Hermione gulped down the rest of her drink, looking intrigued. "Do tell."

Lucien grinned and waved She-Who-Owned-the-Breasts-of-Death over. When she got there, in record time considering her heels were almost longer than her legs, he put his hand over Hermione's. "My friend and I thought you were right about the crowdedness of the dining room. Could you have the food sent up to room 231?" Hermione did a brilliant job of covering by smiling mysteriously and placing her other hand over his. They both had to stifle giggles as the Boob Monster's face contorted comically before returning to it's natural flirty features.

"Whatever you need. Would you and your _friend_ like anything else?"

Hermione batted her lashes and nodded her head towards their empty glasses. "Some more butterbeer would be wonderful, thank you." Their hands never left each other.

"And some strawberries." Lucien put in winking. "I need some comforts considering my boyfriend is all the way across the other side of the world." He stood and half pulled, half carried Hermione towards the staircase. She couldn't walk very well due to the fact she was trying to breath and not laugh at the same time. They left Senorita Busty behind with a very evil look on her face.

Once they got to his room, and he had opened the door, Hermione collapsed onto one of the couches laughing hysterically. "I can't-believe-we-did that." She cried between gasps and bursts of laughter. "You're-insane!"

"But in a good way, right?" Lucien stayed by the door waiting for Vene to walk through. He felt something by his left leg and looked down to find his familiar rubbing across it. Closing the door with his foot he picked Vene up and stroked his head. "Didn't see you come in there, buddy."

"Of course," she answered wiping tears out of her eyes. "That's a beautiful cat." She sat up to see better.

Lucien plopped down on the couch beside her so she could pet the feline. "Yeah, but he's wily as hell. He always seems to be getting into places he shouldn't be or popping up right where you least expect him." He was a little surprised when Vene pushed his head up into her hand and walked over to curl in her lap. Lucien shrugged it off and pointed elaborately to where Vene was making himself quite comfortable. "Hermione allow me to introduce Senor el Gato Venenoso."

"Well, of course he's wily with a name like that! It's not your fault, is it darling?" She spoke the last part in a fond tone and scratched behind his ear making him purr loudly. "He's just a big sweetheart."

"He's a big flirt, is what he is." Then he registered what she had said. "Wait, you mean you know his name means Mr. Poisonous Cat?"

Before she could reply there was a knock at the door.

Excited about another delightful chance to torture the Breast Beast, Lucien bounced up to get it. He was sorry he did. On the other side was not who he expected. A middle aged man was standing there behind a young boy who was carrying their food. The man was wearing a blue robe with a red bowtie. His graying brown hair was combed over to hide his glaring bald spot. It wasn't very successful. He seemed thin and sallow with bags under his eyes which were darting this way and that. He looked overworked to Lucien. The man held out his hand and said in a simpering voice. "How do you do. Marty Fellowsworth at your service. I'm the manager of _The Centaur's Herald._ Welcome."

Lucien shook his hand, he seemed to be doing a lot of that today, and stood aside. The young boy swiftly shuffled in to place their orders on the coffee table in front of Hermione. Vene jumped onto the table only too happy to lap at the milk in a now crystal saucer. The manager swooped in after the boy as he shuffled out and faced Lucien. "I would like to apologize for the behavior of my daughter towards you Mr. Martinez. It was uncalled for."

Lucien's hairs on the back of his neck bristled but again he kept a straight face. He didn't like this guy at all. So far the only nice people he had met all day were Hermione and Bill. Lucien straightened and put on the air he often did when talking to kiss-ups in the higher range of the working staff. Marco called it his "Mr. Big Stuff" voice. "Actually, it's _Portillo-_Martinez. And she's the one you should be apologizing to." He motioned towards Hermione with a sweeping arm. "Your daughter seemed to like me just fine."

Marty flushed and turned to Hermione as if he hadn't seen her there before. "Of course." The words seemed to pain him. "I do apologize. It won't happen again."

"It's quite alright." But she wasn't looking at the manager. She was gazing at Lucien with a strange expression.

Marty turned back to him. "Will there be anything else you would be needing this evening, sir? There is said to be a storm coming. I could send up a house elf."

"For now your apology will suffice," he said shortly noticing Hermione's shoulder's tensing but not looking at her face.

The man hung his head in a semi-bow and walked out. Lucien swore if he had a tail it would have been between his legs. Lucien slammed the door and swore under his breath. "I hate people like that." He said with a huff reverting immediately back to his younger tone. He collapsed down into the chair opposite Hermione sulkily. "Simpering little coward who- what?" He stopped abruptly when he saw her face.

"Are you used to talking to people like that? I mean he seemed so attentive." She was still giving him that strange half blank, half careful look.

Lucien shrugged. "Yeah, he was a stupid little kiss-ass. I've met his type before. When they're mean and rude to my friends, it makes sense that I'd be a little less than cordial." He realized at that moment his mistake. _Danger!_ _Danger! Danger, Will Robinson! _"I don't care how much of a salesman he is, you don't treat a lady that way."

Hermione smiled and blushed. "Oh. Thank you, then. Good gracious, he forgot the butterbeer!"

Lucien laughed and offered to go. He stood up, but Hermione shooed him back into a sitting position as she rose to her feet. "No, no. Knowing how the man reacted before, you might give him an aneurysm. I'll brave the deep for a few drinks." She brushed herself off and started walking towards the door. She stopped and faced him suddenly as if an idea had come to her. "Would you like me to stop by my room and pick up some books? We could start your lessons right away!"

He paled considerably. Lucien turned around so he was facing her. Hermione could only see his eyes over the back of the chair. "Why don't we start out by getting to know each other first, Hermione? Could you get the strawberries too? I have a craving now. Oh! And hot Cocoa. Make them work a little."

"All right." She left looking disappointed.

Lucien chuckled at the closed door and swung around to drape his feet over the side of the chair. He lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the sound of the rain outside. He was going to like this next year. He realized that since he was with Hermione he hadn't thought of his family once. Lucien's face softened as he mulled over the similarities between his new tutor and his sisters. She had Angela's wit but she reminded him most of little Catalina and her books. He was positive that they would get along if they ever met.

Lucien looked over at the food, remembering how hungry he was but thought it would be better to wait for Hermione to get back. That was the gentlemanly thing to do. He tore his eyes away from the scrumptious sight and decided he had a few minutes before she came back. He bounced off the chair and grabbed his bunny bag. Reaching inside Lucien found his prize; the rainbow photo album.

He turned to the first page and lo and behold there was Annita's prize winning oil painting "Mi Familia." It was a copy of course but above each blur representing his family was a signature and a little message to match. Lucien decided it would be safer if he read them later. He was tearing up and he didn't want Hermione to come in and see him bawling. Bad for his rep.

Lucien turned the page to find a picture of him and his entire family. For the first time in a while he stopped to appreciate the differences between all of them. Mamasita and Papi were off to the side with Abuela between them. The trio looked as pristine as always. Mamasita in a sharp, elegant business suit, Papi in a ruffled tuxedo, and Abuela in her old fashioned Spanish dress and shawl. They were smiling at the kids who were crowding around each other trying to get the best side of themselves. Except for Catalina who was off to the side with a hand to her forehead, obviously embarrassed. Each child was dressed in their own fashion. Lucien ran his hand over all the face in the picture trying to devote the photo to memory. He did remember when it was taken. They had just come from one of Annita's art competitions in L.A. She looked so happy clutching her trophy and blushing with excitement.

God, he missed them so much.

He turned the page. There he was in the garden with Angel. It was the time when he had to get some herbs for a special soup for Rosa. She was sick. Abuela had told him if he wanted to make the remedies he might as well learn how to appreciated the way they were made; the proper way. Lucien had been a horrible gardener. Angel was kind enough to give pointers as best he could. But Abuela was right. He did appreciate the parts of his recipes more.

He turned the page again and he was standing on the balcony of Alejandro's room. The picture was taken from behind. They were looking at the stars with Alejandro's new telescope. Alejandro was pointing at the sky and was turned at the perfect angle to see his mystified face. From the look of the decorations in his room it was around Christmas. Lucien remembered with a grin that the telescope had been a gift from Mamasita but Lucien had been the first one out of his family that Alejandro had allowed to touch it.

On the next page was a picture of just himself. It was Christmas morning. The others had obviously gone through the holiday photos first. It was two years ago. He remembered exactly what he had been given, too. His favorite gift was from Angie. She had bought him a figurine of a Cinderella type cooking in front of an old stove with a contented smile on her face. The figurine had long brown hair. A black cat was running behind her. It basically looked like Lucien in drag. He had it tucked away safely in the bottom of his bunny bag with his blue towel over it.

He smiled and ran his hands over his face. He was so happy then. Now he was across the other side of the world. Would he not be happy like that until next Christmas?

His fingers moved to the tree and other gifts behind him. That was when he saw it. Barely perceptible, in the background, there was a place in the picture where it looked like it had a crease in it. Lucien lifted the book up to his face but it still couldn't be seen properly. He pulled the picture out and it was still there only now he could see a slightly dark shape outlining the crease.

"_What the hell?"_

Lucien shook his head and put the picture back. There was nothing weird about that. It could have been the camera. But to make sure... He backtracked to the other pictures he had just seen. He scanned the contents again and found nothing. Getting an idea, Lucien shifted to a page where it was only himself in the picture again. A picture of him cooking a large meal. With scrutinizing eyes, he looked for another anomaly. And sure enough there it was. The exact same crease and blur. It was probably the camera.

He was about to go through the album when there was a dull _thump-thump-thump _coming from the door. He leaped at least three feet in the air when he remembered that it was most likely just Hermione. He looked at the clock. She had been gone twenty minutes. Holy crap.

_Thump-thump-thump_. "Lucien Jose Portillo-Martinez, if you don't open this door right now, I swear I'm dropping your bloody strawberries on the floor."

_Holy crap!_ Lucien rushed to save his fruits, lunging towards the door and fervently forcing it open. Hermione pushed passed him, followed by a rather large fluffy ginger cat. He didn't have time to register the feline before Hermione stomped over to the table and slammed the tray in her hands on the table. With much passionate noise she started arranging their dinners into respective piles, slamming things around. Lucien almost forgot about the Anomaly.

"I am glad we only have-" SLAM! "-to stay here for the night!" She was pissed alright. "If I had to endure-" SLAM! "-another encounter like that with that sodding-" SLAM! " -idiot, I swear I'm strangling someone." She finished and stood up, rounding on Lucien. "He OWNS it! Did you know that? He bloody-"

Taking a risk for his own life Lucien stepped in, "Hermione, _hermosa,_ what happened? And in actual identifiable sentences please."

Hermione actually seemed to calm down at the sound of his voice. "An abomination of a man who thinks he is the greatest thing since wands actually owns this place. You wouldn't know him but he's a servant to one of the most evil wizard ever to walk the wizarding world. I don't know how he stayed out of Azkaban. And he was downstairs not 5 minutes ago." She hung her head to where her hair covered her face. "Malfoy is a-"

"Wait. Time out. Malfoy as in Lucius Malfoy? Creepy SOB, likes black, has blond hair, needs to deal with his personal space issues?"

She looked up surprised and Lucien could see... But that couldn't be. He stepped closer. Yeah it was true. Hermione Granger was almost crying.

"You've met him?" She didn't seem to notice the tears.

Lucien couldn't help the fact that his voice hardened. "Yeah, I've had the unpleasure. Never mind that. What did he do?"

Hermione swiftly turned and continued arranging the dishes almost dropping her butterbeer. She tried to inconspicuously wipe away her eyes, with no success. "He was his usual rude, horrible self. It's nothing worth mentioning."

"Hermosa, you were mentioning it pretty loudly a sec ago." He took another step forward barely keeping his voice in check. "Now what did he do?"

"He called me a..." She said the last part so soft Lucien didn't catch it.

"What?"

She jerked into an upright position again, turning angrily towards him. "A mudblood. Did you hear me that time? A filthy mudblood! And it means just like it sounds Lucien. It's a crude word for someone who has mixed blood. dirty blood. Someone who wasn't born into a pure wizarding family." The tears were back, rolling from her brown eyes in rivulets. "Both of my parents are muggle so that automatically makes me filth. Tell, me Lucien where's the logic in that?"

Without thinking Lucien closed the distance and brought up his arms around her, holding her in a tight hug. "Nothing, Hermosa. There is no logic. People like that are just spiteful, hateful, bigoted, exclusionary idiots. They aren't worth your time or your tears."

It was a moment of silence as she stood rigid. Slowly, she curled her arms around his waist and brought her head down to his chest. "I'm so tired of always having to deal with hate. Hate put my friend in a bloody week-long coma. Hate killed his parents. And hate started this damned war. It seems so pointless."

"It always is, Hermosa." Lucien had seen his fair share of hate. San Francisco was the Homo capital of the good old U.S. of A. but there were still some stupid fucks roaming the streets at night. If Pedro hadn't taught him a very specific low spin-kick he would have been a victim of a hate crime too, on several occasions.

They stood like that for a while just leaning against each other before Hermione sniffled and pulled her head back to look at him. "Why do you call me that?" She gave him a wry simile. "I know I'm not your type."

He laughed and rubbed his hand across her shoulder. "I have a nickname for all of my close friends. Hermosa, Hermione. They seemed to fit. I take it you know what it means, huh? Kinda like how you knew about Vene's name, right?"

Hermione moved out of the friendly embrace and walked around the table to sit on the couch. After she had wiped away the remnants of water from her face, she dutifully started dressing her salad before answering. "Once I found out about who I was going to teach, I did as much research on you as I could. I found a lot about your family but felt that was too personal. So I just stuck with your culture and language." She glanced up giving a cautious look. "You don't mind, do you?"

Lucien stared at the woodgrain in the coffee table, mulling it over. Did he care? He had asked Hagrid not to tell about his parent's money and here was a girl he had just met only a few hours ago who seemed to know his family details, at least a little. He shook his head.

"No," he said, surprising himself. He walked over to sink down beside her in front of his plate. "I mean, it would help if you don't tell anyone else about my family's money, but I don't care if YOU know. You seem like a good friend, Hermosa." They grinned at each other. "Considering how easy it was for you to find out about me maybe I should change my name. Like keep only the Portillo or Martinez. Wait if you knew about my money, then why did you ask if I was used to talking all snooty to that kiss-ass that way earlier?"

Hermione took a bite out of her salad, chewing slowly before answering. "Well, it was just a side effect of the rich life that I never expected to come from you after I had met you."

"You gotta admit he deserved it. Him and his Double D-emon spawn." Grabbing his fork Lucien inspected his own food. "So you learned Spanish in one day?"

Hermione swallowed and looked at him surprised yet again. "I've known about your coming to Hogwarts for two weeks."

Lucien promptly dropped his fork. "So why in the seven Hells did it take so long to get to me?" He was thoroughly annoyed that he seemed to be the last one to know his world was going to be turned upside down.

"I honestly don't know, Lucien. Maybe they needed time to adjust to the fact that you'll be coming in the middle of your education." She didn't sound sure of that though.

Lucien nodded. "That makes sense... I guess. So you learned Spanish in two week, huh?" This boy was not to be deterred.

"Only a little," she replied defensively, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah," Lucien scoffed. "Like pretty and Mr. Poisonous Cat and the correct pronunciation of my full name."

Hermione fidgeted demurely and Lucien chuckled. "I was right," he said affectionately. "You are a brain, Hermosa."

"Oh, shut up," she shot back.

"Cute cat, by the way."

The both watched as the large feline waddled towards Vene to sniff him. Vene stood there for a few minutes before he smoothed his head over his new friend

."His name is Crookshanks," Hermione told him as she beamed like a mother.

"Cool name." He blanched as they both saw Vene And Crookshanks start rolling on the floor in play. "Well, that's decidedly weird."

BANG! All of the mammals in the room whirled to face the window that a large tawny owl was now plastered to.

"Good, Lord," Hermione cried and rushed to save the feathery creature from the wind and rain. "You poor thing! Come over here, darling." She gently laid the owl on the chair by the fireplace as she used her wand to light a fire. She turned her own flaring gaze on Lucien. "They washed the windows so clean they don't look like they're there." Crouching in front of the the owl who was slowly regaining himself and shaking off his feathers, Hermione lightly pulled the wrapped paper from around leg.

"WTF?" Lucien asked thoroughly shocked still. "A letter?"

"Yes, that's how wizards and witches send and receive mail." She gave a perfect answer but she sounded distracted. Her face was paling. "It's from Hogwarts. They aren't ready for us yet." She looked up at him. "We're to stay here for the next week."

A/N So... Long.../Dies/ Sorry these chapters are taking so long. I'm trying, I really am. Review please. I also like details. It helps the creative process. What specifically did you like? What specifically did you not? If you have any ideas please share them.


	8. Crash and Bash

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

**I had to redo this chap because I had messed up the date for James section. This was a pretty important part of the story. **

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 8: Crash and Bash

James

August tenth

11:23 PM

Los Angeles, California

The rain was falling heavily as James made his way down the highway. It had been raining a lot lately. De had told him that the downpour was unusual for this time of year. James was only irritated because before this bout of odd rain started, he had been starting to get the hang of this driving thing. Now it felt like the wheel was starting to jump out of his hand from time to time. He never really had a reason for learning how to drive, he had always apparated everywhere. The spell had come in handy over the years. Now, however, because he didn't carry his wand anymore, he couldn't actually use magic. Not that he wanted to. Often.

If he had to be truly honest with himself, he would have to say that he missed that world terribly. Everything was simple back then. He was a powerful male witch with a loving family, happy friends and a near perfect fiancée. His mental prowess was respected. He had gotten a PH. D. for goodness sake. Everything fell in his lap.

_That was the problem, you idiot, _he thought to himself as he made a left turn. The wheel shook again. _Everything was _too _easy. That's how Sam was able to use you. _

In the back of his mind an annoying, tiny voice replied, _but at least you were happy. At least you had purpose._

_Not with Sam._

_Oh, quit whining. That freak isn't worth it. _

"Shut up," James muttered.

He hated it when he argued with himself. He couldn't help that he saw all sides to everything. It was a trait he had inherited from his grandmother. He smiled as he remembered Grammy Rose. Then he shook his head. He didn't want to think about her. James's mind automatically moved to his work life. If one could call it that.

It had been almost 2 months since he had started what could be loosely called his career as a super model. Tracy is still in Milan and De, who had decided to "adopt" him, still made him feel uncomfortable. He figured since he was used to Bri's brisk attitude that he would have adjusted better to the tiny manager. She had been having him do almost a shoot a week sometimes more. He was starting to feel drained. He didn't like De's general attitude either. She just seemed too mean. Not too long ago, she had made one of the photographers cry so hard they had to hire another one because he couldn't see through his tears well enough to actually focus the camera properly.

It wasn't just De that made him feel uncomfortable, it was also some of the other models. The guys were ok. Thankfully those were the ones De had suggested he pose with. It was the ladies that were the most loathsome. The ones he actually talked to seemed too flighty and selfish. On his brief lunches with some of them they either talked too much about themselves or about this new amazing "diet" they had recently discovered. Meaning they ate five peanuts and half a cup of ice cubes per day.

He had asked De if it was alright if he grew his hair out. He missed it every time he looked in the mirror. She agreed but only on the condition that he keep the highlights as well as the eyes. He remembered the conversation vividly but he didn't have time to really think about it. The song "Swan Lake" rang through the car. He picked up his cellphone knowing who it was. That was the ringtone he had chosen for his mother. She was the only one who called him from the house.

"Hello, Mum," He said automatically, putting the earpiece on. He didn't trust himself to drive with only one hand through this weather.

He and Stacy were finally on speaking terms again. He had called her a week after his first shoot to see how she was faring. The call hadn't been as awkward as he had thought it would be. She had had another exhibition in her art gallery and had managed to sell up to 5 paintings. Earning almost $1,600. They had planned to use it for renovations until Terence's sister, Gloria, had fractured her leg. She was broke so James's parents had offered to pay.

"Hello, darling," she said, sounding cheerful. "My call isn't too late, is it?"

"Not at all. I'm on my way home now. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I call my only son to see how he's doing, and he's already trying to get rid of me." James could tell she was joking.

He couldn't help smiling. He missed her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound that way. How are you? Has she found a house, yet?" "She" referring to his Aunt Gloria.

"I'm doing well, thank you. And no, she hasn't, poor dear. The doctors all seem to be appallingly under qualified. Despite what they say, she feels agony every waking moment." Stacy's voice didn't change but James could tell that she was using her dry wit. "Your father's gotten better, by the way. Dr. Strobes says that the cold has almost blown over."

"That's nice to hear, Mum." He knew he didn't sound pleased at all.

"When are you and he going to stop whatever feud is going on between you two? You're both giving me a migraine."

"My apologies," he said stiffly. "I never meant for you to get involved."

"Don't start that dead tone with me, young man. I demand an answer. Why can't you two get along?"

"You know why, Mum," he said suddenly tired. Their discussions about Terence usually did that. "We're just too different, I suppose."

Thankfully, Stacy could hear the exhaustion in his voice and took pity on him. "I _did_ actually call for something, James. I was wondering if you remember where you had last seen the Tanner family Book of Shadows?"

James was thoroughly confused. "No, I don't remember. I haven't seen it since I was nine. Why do you ask?"

"Gloria's been asking about it. Something about an old potion from when she and Terence were younger. I think they're arguing whether they had put eye of newt of salamander's tail."

_Sounds like them. _"Last place I remember it was in the attic."

"Thank you, James. I'm sorry, dear, but I have to be going. It sounds like Gloria is absolutely parched."

"Have a nice night, Mum."

"Good night, dear. I love you."

"Love you too." He pushed the off button on his phone that was securely tethered to it's holster. Before he could take the ear piece off, the phone rang again. Now the ringtone was "Miniature Disasters" by K. T. Tunstall.

He answered, "Good evening, Brianna."

"Heya, you. Like the ring tone I gave myself?" She had programmed his phone for him. James had never owned one before.

"Very appropriate."

"Punk. It's my favorite song. Guess where I am."

"Good Lord, Bri, don't start that again. I'm too tired."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." She didn't sound apologetic to James at all. "The shoot. Hollywood, right?"

"Yes." He had made it to the city and was slightly distracted by the zooming cars. "Now, why do I need to guess your location?"

"James Tanner, I am shocked and dismayed that you've forgotten."

It took him a moment for him to try to dredge up the obscure memory of one of their many conversations until he found a spark. "The job! That's right. Darling, what would that have to do with your location?"

"Duh! He wants me to look after the school for the summer. Apparently, a new student is behind or something and He and his tutor are coming to stay here tomorrow."

Left turn. "Again, why?"

"If you say 'why you' in that stupid tone, I'm going to hunt you down and hurt you."

He resisted the urge tro chuckle. He loved to tease her as she did him. It was just the kind of relationship they had.

"I read his profile. This kid's cool. And his full name is so hard to say. Hold on I'll find the paper." There was a pause on the other end and James could hear rustling in the background. "Lucien Jose Por-ti-yo Martinez. I like that. It's so exotic."

"Brianna! He's a student," James cried, surprised.

"I never said _he_ was exotic, although he is. I said his _name_ was." She sounded affronted. "Besides he's more your type than mine."

"Brianna-"

"Would you stop saying my name that way?"

"He's under age," he continued.

"Not in Iceland. And you're only 19."

"I'll hang up," he warned.

"Jeeze, I'm just kidding. You never were one for the brunettes, I know"

"His family is amazing. Four sisters. Seven brothers. I nearly fell off my chair when I read that in his file!"

"I don't believe I've met anyone capable of that level of reproduction."

"And he has the prettiest eyes!"

"Would you kindly desist!" James shouted in exasperation.

She actually giggled. "'Desist'? Sweetie, seriously, who talks that way anymore? Besides, I thought you liked blue eyes."

James promptly picked up the phone and pushed the off button.

He had suddenly turned onto a busy street. _Eleven o'clock at night and it still has traffic in this town._ The next few moments happened in slow motion for James. The phone played Bri's song again in his hand right when a car seemed to appear in front of him. He practically threw the phone at his feet as both of his hands grasped at the wheel to swerve out of the way. As that happened he tried to slow down but the phone had rolled under the brake. James tried to move to the right only to rear end a truck. The back of the truck popped open, shooting several steel pipes straight towards his head. James didn't know how it happened but only one came through to smash his window cascading him in sharp glass. Shaky but still conscious James dully noticed that his phone was still playing that annoying song. He unbuckled his seatbelt to reach down and yell into it. His earpiece had fallen out. He didn't see the Volvo crash through his driver's side door.

Later on the scene, when the medic found him on the sidewalk, he was be proclaimed unstable but miraculously alive.

Lucien

8:49 PM

August eleventh

Diagon Alley

It took a moment for Hermione to realize that Lucien was walking towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"To help you pack," was his only reply as opened the door and waited.

"Pack. What-"

"Hermione the very thought of staying here, makes your brain shut down. I'm not going to let you be put through that. We're going to pack then leave."

Hermione smiled as she stood up and walked towards him. She reached behind him to try to close the door but he held it firm. Sighing with a smile on her face she tried to reason with him. "Lucien, it's raining. You obviously have a lot of luggage. As do I. It's almost 9. Let's stay, drink our cocoa, eat our diner, sleep, then we'll figure out what to do in the morning." At Lucien's narrowing eyes she said. "I'll be fine for one night. I promise."

Lucien sighed then. "I can't make you do something you don't want to do, Hermosa. I'm trying to look out for you. I hate seeing a lady cry."

"I know," Hermione replied as she was allowed to shut the door. "Why don't we eat? I can tell that you're hungry. You can tell me more about your family."

He looked at her disgustedly. "Ugh, trying to prey on my homesickness, that's low."

"I know," was the smug answer as she sauntered over to the couch again.

They had talked well into the night simply enjoying each other's company. Lucien found out about Hermione's parents being dentists. She seemed to know about his parents so he didn't need to explain what they did. He talked mostly about his brothers and sisters. Lucien told her about the time he fell out of a tree, thus having to reveal his fear of heights. He talked about little Rosa and her love of all things fluffy as well as creepy.

Lucien was explaining all the wonders that Angel had done to the grounds, when he heard a light murmur. Hermione was asleep. He walked into the bedroom and and was glad to see that the bed had so many covers. Lucien grabbed 2 blankets, but he changed his mind when he remembered that the fire was nearly out and he didn't have the energy to relight it. So he grabbed the comforter for Hermione. He gently laid the pink comforter on her and curled up on the other couch.

He was exhausted. And no wonder considering it was 11 at night. He took a moment to actually look at Hermione, still stunned by the fact that he had already told her so much. He was revealing things he had never told anyone outside of his family. He chuckled quietly.

Lucien had always considered himself to be an open person. He never had a problem coming out when he was 12. He didn't care who knew about that, but personal stuff was well... personal. He liked that he could trust her. He was really lucky to have a friend like Hermione. With that comforting thought, Lucien let sleep come.

_The man was infuriated. He was seething as he sat in his dark throne room with no windows. He had just come from his "meeting" and the situation left him brooding. How could that **snake** do something so foolish? Didn't he know what was riding on this? They- he needed the boy. For their entire plan to work the boy needed to be unharmed. And to find out that that vile wretch with delusions of grandeur had at this moment deemed it necessary to inform him of previous attempts; the situation was to the point of maddening. They were supposed to be partners in this. Not having to make trivial attempts at civility. He would acquiesce to this behavior for the moment. He had time. The boy and his Atua would be in his grasp soon. The snake could have the scraps when he was done. _

_Smirking and somewhat placated he rose from the gilded throne he had been sulking in to make his way to her "room." He needed to relieve some of this unwanted aggression. He knew, whether she did or not, that she would be the perfect answer to the problem._

_Striding past 2 weak Uries, he sniffed in disdain. They had been foolish as well to think they could have succeeded against his predecessor. He could have told any of the filthy mongrels that they would pay for what they would even dream of. They still plotted, he knew. He could hear the whispers through the drafty halls. And they would pay. They would all pay. He would make sure of that._

_Feeling especially frisky at the time he paused to slap the female and kick the male to make her fall and him double over. They dropped the dishes they were carrying from, most likely, the rooms of one of the Renges. "Pick those up, you beasts. If one of your superiors even stubs a toe on any sliver of this mess, I will have you both sent to the Dark!" He basked in the satisfaction of seeing them cower before him. He was a god. Their God. He held their pathetic, worthless lives in his hands. He was the entire reason for their fear. For their existence. _

_Cackling, he searched for the hall that would lead him to her room. Once he had calmed down, he started thinking of his tiny Hummingbird. By Dravol, but she was so beautiful. She had not Succumbed to him yet. He was growing impatient. She knew that. She knew everything. And yet she would not let him Have her, at least not completely. When he thought of all the things he could do to her an unseen shudder passed through his body. He was all too aware that with time he would be able to feel himself within her. She was well Gaurded, as are all the women such as her. She must Give herself, not be taken as a Tori. She would feel so good against his body as he-_

"Lucien! Lucien, are you alright, luv?" Shake. Shake. "For God's sake, Lucien, please wake up." Shake, shake, shake, shake.

He opened his eyes wide, sitting up straight and flailing his arms in defense. For a moment he didn't know where he was. When his eyes lit on the floor to Hermione's frightened face, he was brought back to earth.

Lucien jumped off the couch to help Hermione into a sitting position, instantly forgetting the dream, like always. "Ah, crap, Hermosa, are jou ok? I didn't hurt jou or not'ing, did I?" He hadn't realized his accent had suddenly appeared.

Startled, Hermione looked him up and down before pausing to meet his eye. "I'm very well, thank you, Lucien." She stood up and dusted herself off, all the while giving him a small smile. "I would have asked the same of you. I thought you were having a nightmare. Now it appears that it was quite the opposite."

He looked at her and cocked his head in confusion from where he was still squatting. Then he noticed she was still smirking at him. She was looking at his... He checked. He now realized why his pants were so uncomfortably tight. _Mierda! _Swinging around so quickly he nearly knocked down the oil lamp, Lucien grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around himself. He couldn't face her. He could feel his face go red. "Hermione, I am so very, very, very sorry. This hasn't happened in-"

He was interrupted by Hermione's loud, bubbling laughter. "Oh, Lucien, do shut up." He looked around to stare at her, but only his head and shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to face her completely. She flapped a hand at him in mock irritability, not pulling it off in the slightest due to the uncontrollable giggling. "Luv, please. My two best friends are boys. And it's not like I don't know anything about male physiology. Now, go take a shower, I'm assuming a cold one, and I'll go get some breakfast for us." With those stunning parting words Hermione checked her hair in the mirror and left shaking her head.

Lucien stood staring at the closed door for a few minutes. Goddamn, she was so cool! She always seemed so in control, like she had a plan. Hermosa made him feel at home just by being around her. But in a lot of ways she was still an enigma. He threw the blanket on his couch and made his way to the bedroom as he thought, _Must be why we get along so well. We're both fun to be around but we're always at a distance._

Lucien wanted to start his day off perfectly and to do that he liked to take some time to perfect his ensemble. That and the clothes he was wearing were getting uncomfortable. He riffled through his clothes bag and chose his formfitting bright blue Ambercrombie and Fitchshort-sleaved shirt, tight, faded jeans and blue sandals. He had a fleeting thought of buying some more red clothes to match his wand before undressing and pulling on the maroon bathrobe and slippers so generously provided by the endearing Mr. Fellowsworth. He still wore his necklace. He would only take it off in the bathroom, where he could see it. Stuffing his clothes into his "witchy" bag, as he had dubbed it, he made his way into the bathroom. Picking out his clothes had helped him get himself under control slightly, but not by much.

He stopped when he reached the threshold and spun. Walking briskly across the room he grabbed the diary of his mother that was tucked away in the bunny bag. A flash of the photo album caught his eye and he suddenly remembered the weirdness of photos he had seen last night. Lucien shook his head. _Shower now, drama later, _he thought standing up.

The bathroom was a surprise. It didn't look like the rest of the suite. The tub was so big it was close to a jacuzzi. Everything was white with the a trim of gold. The jacuzzi/tub had a fountainhead made from a fancy jar. The nozzles for the hot and cold water were made of crystals. The sink took up half the wall on the other side. As he walked towards it he saw all different kinds of oils. _Kinky,_ he thought as he picked up the strawberry bath oil.

He looked around again... And saw the ceiling. _Tacky. _It was angels. A large one was in the center she had long brown hair. When he looked at the face he dropped the oil, not noticing as it spilled on the floor. It was Senorita Busty! He was now completely sure that he did not need a cold shower anymore.

Lucien tried to run out of the Room from Hell but as he turned he slipped on the stupid oil. He let the pain pass as he rubbed the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw the horrifying image of the scariest woman he had ever seen. Scrambling to his feet, clutching his bag to his chest, he rushed out of the suite and nearly ran into Hermione who was carrying a tray of eggs, bacon and orange juice. He helped steady the tray and the girl herself without spilling anything before squaring his shoulders. He pointed into his suite. "Bathroom. Ceiling... Look." It was all Lucien could say.

She gave him a suspicious eye only for a moment. Hermione walked into the living room, set the tray on the table then cautiously made her way to the bathroom. All was silent for a few second before ear splitting laughter emanated from the small room. Lucien let this go on for about three minutes until he couldn't stand it anymore. He marched into the living room and collapsed into the couch. The one that wasn't facing the bathroom. Pouting into the fireplace, he yelled so she could hear, "Are you done yet?"

She came out still laughing clutching her sides. Once she was under control she put her hand on his shoulder. "If you want, Lucien, you can use my washroom. I can wait until you're done. Consider this a thank you. I haven't laughed this much in a twenty-four hour period for a long time. I could use some breakfast in any case."

He leaned his head back so he could see her upside down. "So your bathroom isn't something out of an M. Night Shyamalan film?"

She chuckled under her breath. Lucien was starting to like that laugh. "No, decidedly not." Hermione pushed his shoulder lightly. "Now, go get ready. We don't have all day."

Lucien raised an eyebrow before asking, "You have stuff planned? Already?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Brat."

"Whiner," she said calmly.

"Mean... lady... person!" He couldn't think of anything wittier than that at 9 in the morning.

Hermione was nonplussed. "The quicker you get ready, the quicker you can eat your food. The slower you are, the colder it gets."

"Awww," he intoned. Lucien stood up and clasped his hands under his chin while giving his best puppy dog eyes. "But you won't let me starve, Hermosa. You wuv me." He was sadly disappointed when Hermione crossed her arms, cocked her hip, and raised an eyebrow. Obviously the girl had not gotten the memo on the power of "The Lucien Puppy-Dog Look." He dropped his stance and glowered at her. "Fine, I'll hurry up. Keep my food warm though, please?"

"I'll keep it heated for 15 minutes."

"You're a bully!"

"Room 235. It's unlocked." She pointed out the door.

Lucien humphed and stalked out the door down the hall. He couldn't stop his lip from curling into a slight smile. He had yet to meet someone outside of his family that could match wits with him like Hermione could. This was going to be a fun Summer.

He heard a door close in front of him so he looked up and forced a scowl not to appear on his face. There, walking towards him with an exaggerated hip sway, was none other than our dear Apolla Fellowsworth. She had changed into jean capris that were WAY too tight. They had a yellow flower design going up one side that looped around the pelvic area to point down. The top was an off-white halter with a v cut ending with a yellow chrysanthemum pin. The pin accentuated her already overly accentuated bust size. Her boots were a light brown color that stopped where her capris did. He would have liked the outfit if it wasn't worn by the most vile girl he had ever met.

"Hello, stranger." Her voice grated his insides. He was surprised when she put her arms around him in a smothering hug. Not so surprised, though that he didn't remember that under his robe he was wearing an uncomfortable amount of nothing. Before he could say anything, however, she pulled her head back arms still wrapped around his neck, and continued. "I want to apologize for my _atrocious _behavior towards you earlier. I have just come out of a bad relationship and I saw you and well..." She let her voice drift off.

He scratched his head feeling more than a little foolish standing in a foreign inn, being molested by a British Brittany Spears wanna-be. The way she draped her arms around him reminded Lucien of an educational show that he had caught Catalina watching when she was seven. It was about monkeys.

Lucien lightly put his hands on her hips, intending to gently shift her off of him. He desperately wanted to explain that he knew something about bad breakups and that he really didn't mind what she had said before, even though he did -anything to get her large Behemoth Boobs off of him- but froze as he heard a door open almost right behind him.

"Lucien, you were so terrified that you forgot you clothes. I swear..." Hermione's voice trailed off. Most likely because she saws the hands now clasped to his neck. Lucien was taller than both of them so they couldn't see each other. When Hermione spoke next, her voice held barely suppressed laughter. "Oh, you have company. Well, I'll just put your clothes back inside. You can come get them when you need them."

The Double D-mon's face contorted into one of pure hatred. She looked around Lucien's arm and graced Hermione with her lovely features. "Yes, we're having a private conversation, you filthy, little mudblood, so go find somewhere else to pollute."

Lucien froze and stared at the girl in his arms. He was completely stunned. Never had he met a woman who was so cruel. He had heard a lot of things in his life as a San Franciscan, but this was too much. People got angry in the city but they, in his experience, didn't actually act like this, at least not without a reason. She didn't live in the slums. She didn't need to live off food stamps. She lived in an inn and obviously had enough money to buy nice clothes. What excuse did she have? He forced his face to go neutral and dropped his arms, feeling his muscles tense. Hermione must have seen his reaction because she hadn't said anything yet.

"Let me go," Lucien said softly, almost whispering.

Apolla, who had been giving Hermione a smug smile, stopped and looked back into Lucien's face. She jumped back as if stung. Composing herself, she put her hands on her hips and tried, unconvincingly to assert herself. "Excuse me, but-"

Lucien stopped her mid sentence with a slash of his hand. "I was going to, Miss Fellowsworth, I really was, but your immediate actions here against my friend were inexcusable. I respect women, but you, madam, have forced my hand. Try to talk to me or to Ms. Granger again before we leave this very morning, and you will not take kindly to my own actions. Now, leave my sight before I say something all parties present will deeply regret."

Apolla was staring at his eyes with her mouth gaping. He knew, even as he spoke that his irises had gone from a light shade of blue to a misty gray to a deep, swirling dark gray. Again she composed herself and was about to say something else, but Hermione's kindly, melodic voice came from Lucien's left. "Please, Apolla, do as he says." She put a hands on his elbow, steadying him emotionally.

Apolla looked between them before raising her nose in the air. She turned and walked off, but both Hermione and Lucien could tell she had lost some of her bounce. She was also walking slightly faster than normal.

Lucien would have stayed there, standing in the hallway seething, if Hermione hadn't tightened her grip on his arm and steered him towards room 235. She opened the door with one hand, the other still pulling him by the arm.

When they got inside, Hermione turned Lucien to face her, but he wasn't seeing her. She knew that he was still back in that hallway, thinking of that... girl. Lightly, she put her finger tips to his chin and tilted his face to look at her. Lucien relaxed a notch but his frame was shaking. Hermione felt oddly sick. _So much anger,_she thought. _Someone like Lucien shouldn't be this angry_.

Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She hugged him. It took a while for him to respond but he finally leaned against her. Lucien brought his arms up to cling to her shirt. He was still shaking ever so slightly, but strangely she knew he wasn't angry as much as before. He would be alright now.

He pulled back and looked like he was about to make a ridiculous apology, but Hermione stopped him with two fingers to his lips. "Go take a bath to calm down," She said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll get the food."

He nodded as she handed him his bag of clothes. When he got into the blissfully plain bathroom and started the bath water, he briefly thanked whoever was up there listening that he had met Hermosa.


	9. Not a Chapter: Important Author's Note

Dear readers,

I know I've already put it in every chapter, but I know I'm probably the only person alive who actually reads the disclaimer and other information before the actual fic. I am taking apart this story and slowly sewing it back together. I have evolved as a writer. I was nauseated by all of the juvenile writing mistakes that I made. I had to do something drastic to fix it. The mistakes are still there, so I'll be editing it as I go. Don't worry, nothing major will be added to the posted chapters 1-8 after this point. I will only be correcting typos and that sort of thing. I have no Beta for that sort of thing. Sorry if this messed anyone up.

I am completely revamping my ideas for this book. The reason for the new characters is that I needed some extra, outside force to give the plot a push. In all honesty, I had no clue how I was going to introduce the demon clan or the drama with Voldemort. I was at a complete loss. Now that I have James and Brianna, things will probably go much faster. You'll see.

I also wanted to apologize for being gone for so long. I already replied to a review for this, but I'll tell the rest of you. I am writing James, Brianna, and Lucien into a separate universe away from HP fandom. I am actually writing my own book. I didn't think I was doing justice to Rowling, so I have been rewriting some things, so they wouldn't be in the Harry Potter world.

The reason for the change in rating from M to T is that I really don't see anyone getting it on in this fic anytime soon. If I decide to write that, I will change the rating back, but since I'm not very good at it, you may not be seeing any of _that_ sort of action.

I hope this hasn't ruined anyone's day

Yours,

Keely


	10. Pranks and the White Room

**Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became _horrified_ at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!**

**As of 12-3-07 this story has almost completely changed. Even if you have read it before, go back and see what you missed. Thank you.**

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 9: Pranks and the White Room

Lucien

August twelfth

10:48 PM

Diagon Alley

An hour later, Lucien and Hermione left _The_ _Centaur's Herald_ in relative peace. It was a crowded, and neither of them could get out fast enough. They had agreed that it would be safer to actually _find_ an inn that had an opening before checking out of their current Hell Hole. They had left the cats, in any case.

"No sense in lugging around that heavy, overstuffed luggage of yours," Hermione said to him as they stopped to get some candy from a street cart, knowing full well that she had just as many things.

_Most likely books_, Lucien thought to himself as he fingered the locket under his shirt. Since they had left _The_ _Centaur's Herald, _their time together was a happier one. Lucien could tell that Hermione felt a lot better and he knew he looked just as good. He hated that place. If he never saw it again after that day it would be too soon. They had left Vene and Crookshanks behind to guard their things.

Suddenly, Hermione took his hand, pulled him along in a fast pace, and started gesticulating wildly. It happened so quickly that Lucien was forced to drop a rainbow lollipop that made his entire tongue turn a different color with each lick. He hadn't had time to mourn the loss of poor Licky, as Lucien had dubbed him, before Hermione let go of him and flew into the arms of a very red haired man. Lucien smiled and looked at the man beside Red. Was he seeing double? But lo, Hermione stopped hugging Red 1 and hugged Red 2 just as hard. _Twins, _Lucien thought to himself. He forced himself not to frown, pushing images of Angel and Angela away.

Hermione spun around and motioned towards him. "Fred, George, This is Lucien Portillo-Martinez." She stood in between them and motioned with each hand in turn. "Lucien, this is Fred and George Weasley, the craftiest pranksters ever to grace Hogwarts's halls."

"Oh, go on, Hermione," Fred exclaimed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave an obviously feigned sheepish look.

The one Hermione had called George followed his brother's lead and put his arm around her waist. "And he's George, I'm Fred."

Hermione laughed that infectious laugh again, "George, dear, since when did you think you could pull something like that on me."

"How do you always know lately, Hermione? It's not fair," cried Fred. Both brothers proceeded to pout.

Hermione slipped out of their grasps, did a little twirl so she was once again standing beside Lucien facing them."George is prettier."

George looked at Fred shrugging, as if to say, "Well she's got you there."

Lucien grinned. He had a feeling he would like these guys. Besides, if they made Hermione this happy after the shitty 24 hours she'd had, they must have been pretty cool. A thought struck him. "You say your name is Weasley, right? Any relation to a Bill? Punk-rocker guy, works at the bank, has a blond girlfriend."

They all looked at him in surprise before Hermione nodded and said, "Yes, Fred and George are two of his brothers. Bill is the second eldest."

Disgusted features were plastered on their faces. "So," said George, "You met Fluer, did you?"

"No," Lucien said shaking his head. "Just her hair."

They stared at him making him grin mischievously. "I'll explain later."

Beaming again Hermione turned back to the twins, "How's the business? These two run a joke shop. They're rather ingenious, actually," she explained as an after thought to Lucien.

Lucien was about to ask what kind of stuff they sold thinking he could get something for Marco but the twins were staring at Hermione like she had grown a second head that was spurting Kool-Aid out of its ears while whistling "Yankee Doodle Dandy" through it's nose.

"What?" Hermione was now irritated.

"Hermione, you really have changed," said Fred in an astounded tone.

"Yeah, Granger. You'd usually run us off for trying to corrupt your new boyfriend's mind."

"Ok, one," Hermione started ticking off on her fingers. "He's not my boyfriend. I'm sure either of you are more his type. Two, I have a right to have a change of opinion. I happen to think that some of your inventions are very interesting ideas. And three, stop looking at me that way."

The put their hands up in defense. "Woah," they said in unison. "We surrender!"

Lucien couldn't help it. He cracked up laughing. "Dude, you guys are great." That earned him a glare from Hermione.

"Thank you," said George.

"We aim to please."

Lucien turned to Hermione and in an attempt to reconcile said, "I'm sorry, Hermosa. They just remind me so much of Marco."

"_The one that raced you up a tree?"_ she asked incredulously in Spanish.

"_Hey,"_ Lucien objected. _"He didn't 'race me up a tree.' He _tricked_ me up a tree."_

"_Either way, you still ended up sitting on a branch with twigs sticking in you-."_

George waved a hand between them as if directing a football game. "Are you sure you just met yesterday?"

Hermione and Lucien looked at each other, confused before turning back to the brothers and nodding.

"Yes," Hermione replied innocently. "Why?"

"You two seem sort of attached, is all," said Fred.

"Aw, what's wrong, boys?" She gave them a dangerously sweet smile. "Jealous?"

"No, but Ron might be."

Lucien noticed Hermione's cheeks turn an interesting shade of pink as she said, "That's untrue."

Fred scoffed, "Oh please, Ikkle Ronnikins is-"

"Who's _Ron_?" Lucien asked. He was thoroughly amused by the current happenings. In his head he was singing _Hermosa's got a boyfriend. Hermosa's got a boyfriend._

"He's a _friend_," Hermione answered vehemently. She was still pink.

"He's our little brother," started Fred.

"And he's got the hots for our little bookworm here," finished George.

"Yeah, he's gets really bothered when-"

Hermione raised a threatening finger. "Fred Weasley, if you finish that sentence, I will make sure you can't find your shop for a month. I can do it, you know I can."

The brothers looked at her with terror in their eyes. "You wouldn't dare!" They cried.

"Don't tempt me."

"You don't even know where is it," Fred accused.

Hermione looked smug. "Fifth and Griffin, next to the broom shop. Superb choice, by the way," she added conversationally. "All the children ogling the overpriced brooms will want to kneed out their frustrations by creating some devious plans on family and friends. Bravo."

Knowing this situation was getting them nowhere, Lucien decided to step in and said, "Hey, I wanna see this shop. I have a brother who'd like to make some mischief."

"Sure," exclaimed the grinning twin.

The shop was being renovated but George and Fred had just come from working on some new ideas. The Extendable Ears were very interesting to Lucien but he figured Abuela wouldn't go for that. Finally he chose a book that made a new strange sound, like a scream or a gong sounding, every time it was opened. He knew Marco would love to leave it on his desk at school. He also bought a paintbrush that, when you pushed a certain part on it, the brush would paint a different color. Someone could even mix colors. He knew Annita would love it. Lucien figured that the brush was one of the things they sold that Hermione thought was "ingenious."

By the time Lucien was done Hermione announced that it was time to go to the bookstore. Lucien tried to tell her that Hagrid had already gotten his books but she just smiled. After they had locked up the shop, Hermione hugged the twins one last time. Fred and George waved good bye before literally disappeared with a sharp "pop."

"Apparating," explained Hermione at Lucien's unasked question. He nodded as if he understood. She grabbed his hand again and off they went.

Lucien was surprised at how fast she could walk. She was so tiny but so very much larger than life. He smiled a sad smile. He would need Hermione strength if he was going to get through the homesickness.

They were in front of the book store so he thought they were going inside, but Hermione turned and hugged him tightly. When she let go he asked, pleased but confused, "What was that for?"

She shrugged. "I just felt for some reason that you needed a hug."

"Gee, how _thoughtful_ of you," came a voice behind her.

Hermione spun around. Lucien looked above her shoulder at yet ANOTHER red haired man. He was more like a boy, truth be told. Especially when he crossed his arms and scowled like that.

"Ron! I thought you were spending the day with Harry." Was it Lucien's imagination, or did Hermione actually sound flustered?

"Yeah," Ron sneered, much to Lucien's annoyance. "It's obvious you weren't expecting me today."

Ok, Lucien had just gone from annoyed to pissed in a very short amount of time. "Listen here, you li-"

Hermione simply raised a hand to gently silence him. "I can handle this, Lucien."

"Handle me?" Ron was practically shouting. "You're going to try to handle me now?"

"Ron, that's not what I meant and you know it," said Hermione, deathly serious.

"Oh, so you're saying I'm stupid now? I can't understand other people's sentences? Handle _this_, Hermione!"

"Ron!" Hermione yelled after him but he had already turned the corner. "Something's not right," she said to Lucien.

"Go on, follow him, Hermosa." Before she even think of arguing, Lucien pressed on. "We can meet at_ that _inn in two hours. We'll get our stuff together then. I'm sure out of all the other places we saw today, we can choose one." It was true that they had seen plenty of inns on their walk. _Whether they have vacancy or not is another thing,_ he thought.

She nods and gulps before taking off. "I'm sorry about this," she called over her shoulder. Lucien made shooing gestures at her in reply.

When she was out of sight, he shook his head, partially disbelieving, partially in amusement, and started walking to where he had seen a cute B&B not to far away. He could tell that Hermione really liked Ron, but if a guy Lucien liked ever talked to him the way, Lucien would've probably socked him. He'd been burned before. He had a feeling that Ron didn't usually act that way, at least that's what Lucien got out of Hermione's surprised reaction. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who was used to being caught unawares.

Lucien saw the B&B he wanted Hermione and himself to stay had no vacancy. He decided to wander, trying to think of anything but the way his heart ached. He missed everyone so much. He wanted to cry but he knew he wouldn't. None of his brothers or sisters would ever let him live it down.

His feet had somehow brought him near the center of Diagon Alley. He looked around spotting Gringots. He smiled when he thought of Mr. Bill Weasley and his beloved Fluer. _At least someone is getting some,_ he thought a little morosely as he slumped down onto a bench.

He tried to remember the last time he had been in a proper relationship that lasted more than 4 months. Hell a relationship at all. Lucien was only 16 but he still had had a few loves in his life, if one could actually call them "loves."

While his first boyfriend he'd had was when he was eleven, the first and only person he had ever loved romantically, he'd met when he was 13. Jack Mitchel. They were together for almost a year and a half. Jack's parents shipped him off to Canada when they had found out about them and Lucien had cried himself to sleep every night for almost two weeks. It was one of his first encounters with outright homophobia.

Last boyfriend he'd been with was almost a year ago and was slightly less of a choice from Jack. The new guy had been completely insane. Stalked him for a while. Abuela had warned him about Josh, but he never listened. Hell, most of his siblings had warned him, including little Rosa and she had been five! He still had to see the little creep every once in a while at the mall. Lucien on more than one occasion had thanked all that was good in this world that he didn't have to see him at school; Josh had dropped out a while ago. Lucien supposed he could consider that a perk of being on the other side of the world.

Oh, God, and the one before that, Yuri, was even worse. Lucien had given that horny little bastard three times to clean up his act. Finds out Udy, as he liked to be called, was messing with a twelve year old behind his back.

Yuri had done several other things, including drugs, but Lucien's memory came across the boyfriend he had had right after Jack. Kale was a sick jerk. He always treated Lucien like dirt, and Lucien let him. He needed to be with someone, He had been trying to get over his heartbreak from Jack. Kale had also been so far in the closet he had claimed he hated Lucien and got into a out-and-out fight with him in front of his friends. It was more like a beating than a fight. Lucien didn't raise a hand. It was the first time Lucien had ever seen his Abuela truly crazy angry. Kale had been 18 and was now running a porn site, except Lucien hadn't heard from him in a while.

These were horrible thoughts, but those were momentarily driven from his mind as he saw, not far away, Ollivander's shop. As much as he'd like to push off what happened the other day, Lucien suddenly had a burning desire for more answers. He walked swiftly towards the shop at a brisk pace. He couldn't help slowing ever so slightly as he came to the large green door. Taking a deep breath, Lucien raised his hand to knock but the door swung open. There standing in his usual posture was the man himself.

Bri

August eleventh

2:37 AM

St. Francis' Teaching Hospital, San Francisco, California

White

Everything was too damned white. The smell of Pinesole hung heavily in the air like a sticky veil. Brianna walked by the dimly lit waiting room and made her way over to the over large, too-sterile nurse's desk, which looked more like a booth, really. A tall yet slim woman sat in a plush black business chair, facing profile to Bri as she typed on the computer keyboard. Every push of a button with her un-manicured fingers sounded like she was trying to smash the damned thing through the faux-marble table top. She wore the expected over-the-top, loud nurse's shirt, which depicted kittens and puppies dancing together in front of a backdrop of baby blue sky filled with rainbows and smiling clouds. Her nametag was covered in multi-colored butterflies and told Bri that this nurse was called Deb. Her curly darkish blond hair was pulled half-up, half-down with a heart shaped hair clip, making the locks seem bigger than they would otherwise. She gave off the impression that she should have looked much younger than she actually appeared. There were bags under her eyes, giving her that haggard look, which was understandable for 3:00 in the morning.

Bri processed all of these facts in seconds. Storing and filing information away for later use was a comping mechanism of hers. It was her ADHD kicking in. Not that any of this really mattered. The _only _thing that was important to the young teacher at that moment was the fact that her best friend was lying in this hospital somewhere, bloody, battered and probably half alive if the phone message she had just heard was any indication.

She waved her hand to get the nurse's attention. The nurse typed two more keystrokes before looking up and giving Beri her best smile, although it never reached her eyes.

"Hi," Bri said before the nurse said anything. "I was called about an hour ago. Well I got the message on my cell phone about 20 minutes ago but it said that the call was made an hour ago... Anyway I was called about my friend, James Tanner. I was told he was here. Can you help me?"

Deb was already looking through a file and nodding her head before Bri had finished speaking. "Oh, yeah. The cutie. I'm afraid I can't give out any information to non-family, sweetie. You'll have to wait here for the patient to wake up or come back visiting hours." She slipped the file back into a stack and returned to the computer, obviously finding something more pressing to do.

When after two seconds of being ignored by Deb the Nurse, Bri slammed the palm of her hand down upon the poor, unsuspecting bell, earning her stunned yet immediate attention.

"Hiiiii," she said again, making the word loud and drawn out. She went straight back to her fast speech, knowing her accent would show more. It always did when she was upset. " My name is Brianna, not sweetie and I need several things from you. The first is the room number to James Elijah Tanner. He was in a car wreck. The second thing I need for you to do is produce his doctor as well as the police officer that brought him in. And don't bother telling me that either of them are gone. We both know it would be a lie." When the woman still sat, staring at her, Bri snapped, "_Now _would be good."

"I'll handle this Deborah," came a deep, concerned voice from behind Bri.

Bri still had the good sense not to turn and attack whoever had dared sneak up behind her, but she did deliberately turn to face this brave soul. She immediately went back into information gathering mode. The first thing her quick eyes noticed was that this very tall, very large, very young man was wearing a very white lab coat. On the pocket was stitched the words "Dr. Watts" in blue thread. One of the "t"s was unraveling making it look like "Wats." Under the coat, this doctor wore a sea blue work shirt with an aqua tie made up in a hubble knot, making his neck look larger than it was. Bri had thought he was young but on second glance she saw he had to be at least 35; he just had boyish features. This was made worse by his brown hair that he had parted to the right so it covered the corner of one of his large brown/almost black eyes.

"I'm Dr. Sherman Watts, one of Mr. Tanner's doctors, ma'am. Are you Brianna _Jackson_, Mr. Tanner's medical proxy?" He asked in a calm voice.

She nodded vigorously. "Yes. Yes I am. Now can you _please_ tell me what's going on. I got a lousy message on my _voice mail_ telling me that I should come down to the St. Frances' Teaching Hospital because my bestfriend has been found on the street in the middle of a car wreck. If someone doesn't tell me his condition right now I'm going to raise an even bigger fuss than I am at this moment. And if you think that is impossible, my friend, you are completely wrong." He had a sad look in his eye that made Bri feel faint but she pulled herself together in time to hear his answer.

"Mr. Tanner has sustained severe wounds. His right wrist is broken almost completely. His left arm is fractured in three places. Both his left and right thighs are torn. He has suffered four broken ribs, a sprained knee, a rotated elbow and a misplaced shoulder blade, not to mention multiple scaring internally and externally. Our main concern is his internal bleeding. It's under control for now, thankfully."

For the first time in a long time, Bri was speechless. James, her boy wonder, was so broken that it took a doctor 65 seconds to describe just how injured he was. All she could manage was to stare at the floor. Before Bri knew what was happening, Dr. Watts started leading her towards a couch in another room by her elbow. She was shaking, but she could feel the doctor sit beside her.

"What happened?" she whispered. She didn't trust her voice to go any higher than that.

"From what eye witnesses say, Mr. Tanner's car was hit on his right side, putting him straight behind a car carrying construction poles. The car behind him rear-ended him… The poles came through the front window, but somehow, Mr. Tanner had been thrown onto the sidewalk."

"When did the accident happen?"

Dr. Watts paused. "Around 11:30 last night.

"Oh, Jimmy," She put her hand to her mouth and stared at the floor. "This is all my fault. No…" It wasn't until Dr. Watts handed her his handkerchief that she realized she was crying. She took it and looked into the man's eyes. "He was on the phone with me. We were joking! He hung up on me, and I called back like I usually did. That must have…" Bri let out a few more tears, but in the end she wiped them away, and looked the doctor in the face. "When can I see him?" she demanded.

Dr. Watts smiled at her. "He just came from surgery about thirty minutes ago. You could see him now if you'd like."

Brianna stood to glare at him better. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that before? What room is he?"

"I'm sorry. This way please." He stood and down the hall. He knew she would follow him. "I just thought you should know the extent of your friend's injuries."

They had stopped at a door, but Bri couldn't open the door. She stood there frozen, and stared at her best friend through the small window. He was almost completely covered in casts. The thing that surprised her most was the gauze on his face. "Wh- Why did you wrap his face?

Dr. Watts gave her a confused look. "There was severe scarring over seventy-five percent of his body, including his face. He has at least six scars in that area alone."

"Doc, you don't understand," she said almost desperately. "He's a model. He-"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Cummings." The way he said it actually made her believe him. "The scars on his face are too deep into the muscle. They can never be fully healed."

A/N I will definitely be reposting this later. This is only a rough draft. And I know I told some people that it would be a while before I explained why Lucien and Hermione couldn't go to school yet, but if you've been following closely to the dates, you would have noticed that the reason was because there would be no one there to watch them, meaning Brianna was with James. Kudos if you picked up on that!


	11. Quest

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

_This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized._

Chapter 10: Quest

"Ah, my boy. I didn't expect to see you so soon." Ollivander looked anything but surprised. In fact, he looked downright amused. "Come, come." He motioned inside. "I believe it's time for afternoon tea."

Lucien followed Ollivander and was slightly disconcerted when he realized the man was leading him to the back room. Lucien tightened his hand around the wand in his bag as he tried to slow his thumping heart. He was suddenly very protective of his wand, but he knew, somehow, that Ollivander didn't mean any harm. Lucien felt comfortable in the little shop.

The inside of the room wasn't that different than what Lucien remembered. Coffee table, two chairs, and a fireplace. The only differences were the tea setting placed pristinely on the table and the wall with the bookshelf was gone, replaced by a large window. Lucien could see all the people outside milling about before he realized what he was looking at. He was seeing the street in front of the shop. He was about to ask Ollivander but the wand maker shook his head. He started pouring a brown liquid into their cups. "Tea first, then questions."

Lucien nodded and sat down. He took a sip of his tea and tried not to wince. "Lemony."

Ollivander chuckled. "Not a lemon type of lad?"

"I wouldn't say that."

Ollivander smiled and placed his hand about an inch above Lucien's cup. He held it there for a few seconds before sitting back and gesturing towards the cup. Getting the hint, Lucien took another sip. He nearly spit it out. The tea now tasted like regular mint. "What are you, Mary Poppins?"

"I believe you have much more important questions to ask me," he dodged with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Lucien softly. He had been so ready to ask the questions he needed, but now that he was about to get some answers, he was nervous. Summoning up his courage he asked the most obvious one he could think of, "Mr. Ollivander, you seemed to recognize me earlier." Pause. "Is it because I look like my dad?"

Ollivander sighed. "Please, my boy, call me Nathaniel or Nathan if you prefer. Your father called me Olli." To Lucien's resigned face he continued. "Yes, I knew your father. He saved my life on several occasions."

"So he was a good guy?"

"He was amazing," said Ollivander, taking a sip of his tea. "That man was the strongest being that I have ever met. He was a leader when the idea suited him. Your father didn't care about much in the world, but when he did, he devoted his entire existence to it. When last I saw him, you and your mother were the only things he thought about. Both of you were his entire world."

Lucien sat quietly for a moment. He played with the locket under his shirt.

Nathan noticed. "Ah! The locket." He held out his hand. "May I?"

Surprising himself, Lucien pulled his treasure over his head and handed it over. He felt naked with out it, almost unprotected, but something in him told him that this man was alright. Lucien knew that he trusted Nathan completely.

"Yes, your father gave this to your mother. Truth be told, the child never could keep his hands off it. When they let you hold it, you never stopped fiddling with it either."

"What was she like?" Lucien swallowed the knot in his throat.

Nathan handed back the locket. "I never got to know your mother very well," he admitted. "All the knowledge I gathered, was taken in the brief moment they took refuge in my store. You were left the journal I assume?"

"Yeah, I've only read a few days worth, though." He reached into his bag and pulled out the diary. "They were here? In the shop?"

"Yes, briefly. Your mother slept for most of their stay here. They had been on the run for quite some time."

"On the run? From who?"

"A very dangerous, demonic power, one that is still in existence today. At least what's left of it."

"What were their names?" Lucien silently wondered why he hadn't thought to ask that before. "The note my mom left me was only signed 'D.'"

"Drink your tea, lad." Lucien obeyed. Nathan made sure he had taken a big enough sip before continuing. "I cannot tell you. I swore a blood oath. You would not like to know what would happen if I attempted to break that magical promise."

Lucien nodded. He could understand that. He was going to make sure that blood oaths and demonic powers were on the curriculum this summer, though. Lucien held out the diary to him. "Is this demonic power you told me about in here? Did D write about it?"

"I don't see why not," Nathan replied pensively. He took the leather-bound book from Lucien's hands. He flipped through it for a few pages, until he stopped at the place he was looking for. Nathan handed it back with a blank expression.

Instead of seeing that clean writing of his mother's hand, he saw a drawing of a man. His father. Lucien stared at the picture drawn in charcoal. The man was sitting at a window with a book in his lap. He looked so sad. A name was written off to the side but it was a sloppier hand than his mothers. "Lucas." Lucien repeated the name, trying out the taste. He liked it. Lucien looked up at Nathan in supplication. He didn't trust himself to talk.

Nathan smiled. "That, as you see, is a picture of your father, Luke, he liked to be called. The drawing is a product of your mother's. Very talented as I recall. The child was around 16 when that was drawn. The entries after that are about your parent's romance and their mutual trials. Although the tough times came not long after that portrait was drawn, they loved each other deeply from the moment they met, apparently. Yes, their love was meant to be, Lucien. They prized each other above all else, but they both loved you more. They were willing to give everything to save your life."

"And they did, didn't they?" Lucien asked in a somber voice. A single tear raced down his face. "Maybe if they didn't have to protect me, they'd be alive, right? They're not here now because of me."

"No," whispered Nathan. He went to kneel on the floor in front of Lucien. He took the boy's hands. "You were the reason they lasted as long as they did. You gave your father humanity. You gave your mother a way to survive the coming nightmares. The ones at fault will be punished, Lucien, of that I can assure you."

A bell resounded the room. Lucien wiped the tear away. "You have a customer, right?"

"Yes, but they can wait."

"No," protested Lucien giving him a watery smile. "Go do your job. I could use few minutes alone, anyway."

Silently, Nathan gave Lucien's hands one last squeeze before he walked out of the room. Lucien was left alone in silence. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to digest all the information he had just been given. It was mind-boggling. Not only was his dad, Lucas, not normal but both of his parents were on the run. His mom, D, must have been frightened. And she had to have had him young. Only 16, Nathan had said.

He looked at the picture again. It was positively breathtaking. The hair was perfect, almost separate strands that fell in his eyes. The hands were elegant. Lucien could tell just from the drawing that there was a lot of power in those hands. But the face was what captivated him. Lucas looked exactly like him, exactly like the picture in Lucien's locket. They had the same long nose and face, same lean body, although Lucas was slightly more muscular, and the same wide mouth. The main difference between father and son were their eyes. Lucien remembered from the actual photo in his locket that his eyes and hair were more like his mother's. He briefly wished that he had a better picture of her.

Lucien turned the page. He wanted to read more of D's handwriting. He had a feeling it would comfort him.

_**Dear Diary,**_

_**See that picture I drew? That's a real guy. I was actually able to draw a person. And it turned out good! I drew it in Lemming's. I was sitting there trying to read my book when I looked up and saw one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. I know I shouldn't be saying things like that about a guy but he really is gorgeous. He looked so sad! But he seemed, I dunno arrogant. I pulled out my sketch book and started drawing. It took me almost 40 minutes. I was surprised he was able to keep still that long. I would be fidgeting. **_

**_I can honestly say that I figured I was being sneaky because he hadn't said anything yet. Stupid me right? I was just finishing up the shading, staring at the paper when I heard this voice behind me, "Wow, little one, you're very good." I screamed! Out and out screamed. It was the guy! His voice gave me chills. And when he laughed I nearly died. "Would you like an autograph?" He sounded so arrogant! In all honesty I couldn't say anything. I sat there staring like a fish. He gave off a rumbling laugh. I sunk lower into that stupid wood chair. _**

**_And do you know what he did? He reached OVER me, took my charcoal out of my hand and signed his name on the drawing. Lucas. I like that. He was so close. When he was done he didn't move off of me. He turned and smiled that creepy smile and said "Hi, I'm Lucas Drahveen. Please call me Luke. And whom may I ask is the lovely artist?" I swear his face was 3 inches from mine. I didn't know what to do so I told him my name! Like that! Finally he gave me my personal space. _**

_**But he didn't go away. Oh no. He pulled up one of the chairs and sat it RIGHT NEXT TO ME. He kept complimenting me. I never thought my eyes were all that pretty. **_

**_I was excited to see that he had a cross on. I asked him what church he belonged to. I tried so hard not to squeal like a little girl when he told me he was "in the market." He even asked which one I thought he should look into. I know. I'm crazy. That is possibly the only explanation because I invited him to the ice-cream social! Insane right? He even offered to pick me up! And I agreed! I needed a ride anyway Da's out of town. and I don't feel like riding the bus. I gave him my addy and just like that he was gone. Swept out of the place. Said he had "previous engagements." _**

_**I get to see Luke next Friday.**_

_**Is something wrong with me? I know I shouldn't be feeling this way about a guy. Da tells me it's wrong. I'm only 16. Oh well nothing I can do about it now. I'm so tired.**_

_**g'night**_

_**D.**_

_Wow,_ Lucien thought as he closed the book and put it on the coffee table. He was amazed. He had just read about his parent's first meeting. Luke was so cool! And D; she seemed nice. Lucien looked at his hands and sighed. He never could draw. He figured that's why he encouraged Annita so much. The girl had talent.

His tried not to focus on the guilt D seemed to be carrying around but his mind kept going back to what she had said. "I shouldn't be feeling this way." "I'm only sixteen." What kind of world did she live in where she couldn't even be attracted to someone of the opposite sex? What kind of dad would tell their kid that being a human is wrong? Lord knew that Lucien had jumped onto the boyfriend bandwagon young. He couldn't remember Mamasita and Papi trying ever to control him that way, and he was gay.

He looked up when the door opened and Nathan walked in. He seemed haggard. When the man wobbled Lucien stood up and helped him to his chair.

"Are you ok?" Lucien asked, shocked.

"Yes, yes," Nathan replied impatiently, waving Lucien into a sitting position again. "I'm not as young as I used to be. These students are starting to make me feel my age."

Lucien ignored the waving hand and poured some more tea for his friend. "You don't look that old, Nathan."

Nathan's head was against the back of the chair, his eyes closed. He chuckled under his breath. "Try several hundred years, lad."

Lucien nearly dropped the teacup but was able to hand it back without incident. He let his mind run over this information for a few seconds and found that he wasn't surprised. He supposed he needed to get used to weird things like that. He was a wizard now, after all. Lucien looked back up. Nathan was giving him that strange smile again.

"You seem to be taking all these changes in your life in stride."

Lucien hid a scowl._ Damned if that man can't read minds._ "Kinda have to, don't I? I can't do much about it. If I whine it'll only make things worse. If I try to deny it, it'd be an insult to everyone who's helped me so far. You, Hermosa, Hagrid- and what's so funny?"

Nathan had started laughing quietly. He turned to Lucien and said, "Your mother said the exact same thing, all those years ago. So brave a soul in such a tiny body."

"I thought you said you didn't know her very well."

"I didn't. At the time I wasn't truly trusting of Luke. He had saved my life but that didn't mean I had to give him a look at my back. I decided to listen to their conversation. Luke was worried about D and he had asked the exact same question I just did you. Your answer took me back. You are so much like your mother, Lucien."

"So, I'm not like Dad?"

"In times of duress I would like to see how you fare, but from what I've seen, no. You are considerably more your mother's son."

Lucien stared at the diary for a few second, letting silence set in again. He liked that for some reason. Being similar to the woman who wrote that book gave him a sense of strange belonging. He couldn't wait to get back to an inn to read more.

"I believe it is time for you to take your leave."

"What," he practically shouted, standing up. "But I want to know more about my parents. I have Mom's diary, yeah, but what about Dad? I could learn so much more, Nathan. For all that you've told me, I know next to nothing about him!"

"Lucien," said Nathan with kind eyes, "All that has been allowed for me to tell has already been said. The information you need to know is in D's journal. Let that be your compass."

Lucien hung his head.

"But if you wish to hurry things along somewhat." Nathan paused while Lucien's head shot back up. "You might be able to find the light on your first step to the path in the woods. Go in a Westerly direction until you come to an old run down house. It looks a great deal like a manor. Go inside the right entrance. That is very important. The right entrance. There you will find an interesting answer. And remember to keep to the path, Lucien."

"So," said Lucien trying to understand. "I go West, stay on the road, get to this manor and suddenly I find out what I want to know?"

"Nothing is ever that simple, my dear boy, you should know that by now."

"No," Lucien said in a wavering defeated tone. "Of course not. Because easy would be boring." He perked up as he did the math in his head. "Hey, I have to meet Hermione at around 2. Will I have enough time to do this thing?"

"Yes, I believe an hour and a half will be quite sufficient. Now, off you go, lad." Nathan tried to stand up but Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him still.

"It's alright, Nathan. I remember where the door is. You just relax and finish your tea."

"Patronizing whelp," Nathan's tone was friendly.

Lucien presented him with a simple smile, grabbing D's diary as he did and gently placed it in his bag. He gave little wave of farewell as he walked out of the shop and headed West.

He felt surreal almost. So far things had been going by in a daze for him. It wasn't until now that he had a chance to slow down and actually process the last three days. _Damn, has it really only been that long? _Lucien thought, kicking an old hat out of his way. The day before yesterday he was picking out presents for the twins and making lunch with Abuela. Now he was on some weird _Forgotten Realm_ type fantasy quest to find out about his birth parents while trying to learn magic to boot.

_Yeah, definitely feeling surreal_.

It wasn't long before Lucien had left the town and had come to a forest. There was moss covering everything, he couldn't find a way through. He assumed the large pointy things way high up were trees. The moss covered trees could be seen in either direction. There didn't seem to be any end. For a moment Lucien thought he had gone in the wrong direction, but then he remembered what Nathan had said.

"You might be able to find the light on your first stepping stone to the path in the woods."

_Subtle, Nate. Reeeeally subtle._

After what felt like thirty minutes of searching, Lucien was about ready to give up. He couldn't find a freaking path much less a damned stepping stone. He pouted and crossed his arms petulantly. He sat on the ground with a "thump." Lucien picked up a stone and was about to throw it at the trees when he felt something sticking in his thigh. Lucien, took his wand out of his long pocket and stared at it for a moment. He would have hit himself if he weren't so focused on how to get into the creepy-ass forest.

Feeling nervous and a little bit stupid Lucien pointed his wand at the offensive wall and said, "Um, open sesame?" Nothing happened.

_Okie-Dokie. _"Abracadabra?" _Nope._

"Can you let me in, please?" _It was a stupid idea anyway._

It took only about nine more tries until Lucien wanted to burn down the whole damn thing. He sat again and tried to brainstorm. He looked at the stick in his hand, wondering if he should break the useless thing in two. He was tempted to do just that when another thought dawned on him. Again he was reminded of Nathan's words._ Find the light._

Standing again, Lucien raised the Stone up into the treetops. "I would like some light... _por favor_."

Nothing happened for all of a minute with Lucien just standing there, feeling more and more idiotic as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly there was a tinkling sound like bells coming from the forest. It got louder until Lucien felt like he was surrounded by millions of tiny wind chimes. Then everything became blindingly bright. Lucien eventually had to shield his eyes from the light. He made sure to use the hand not currently occupied by the wand.

Once things were quiet again, Lucien braved a glance between two fingers. He nearly fell backwards as he saw the scariest door he had ever seen. More like a gate actually. It was huge. And black. What Lucien had thought was a forest was a giant stone wall. The things that he had taken for pointy branches were gargoyles with open wings. Feeling like a dear walking into a hunting ground, Lucien slowly walked forward. He stopped right before he got to the door. Now that he was this close he could see there were weird symbols outlining the frame. He vaguely remembered Eduardo teaching him something similar. His little brother had called them "runes." Lucien was close enough to the door to also see that it wasn't made of regular stone at all. For that matter neither was the entire wall. The material looked like black marble. He knew because Annita had gone through a rock sculpting phase not too long ago.

"_Ai, Dios mios,_" Lucien muttered under his breath. "Someone has _muy denero_."

Going on a hunch, he pressed his hands to the gate door. Slowly, ever so slowly, it creaked open.

It took Lucien's brain a few seconds to process what his eyes were seeing. A slew of plant life could be seen for what looked like miles. Trees with all sorts of flowers in bloom were straight to Lucien's left. To his right was a cornucopia of weird bushes and ferns. He looked down and saw that the path itself had golden flower petals and some kind of purple ivy to cushion his feet.

"Follow the yellow brick road," Lucien mumbled to himself in a high, squeaky voice before mumbling, "Guess there was a forest here after all."

Starting down the flowery walk, Lucien briefly thought of where exactly he should be going. He scanned his surroundings again and stopped. He had to stand on tip-toes to see, but there, not too far away, was a tower. The rest of it was obscured by the trees. He was about to take a step off the road and through the trees when something stopped him. Something Nathan had said. "And remember to keep to the path."

Jeez, Lucien thought. Give that man a medal for the longest running cryptic advice ever!

He sighed, shoving his hands in his pocket. He figured that he would find out how this ends somehow. Sooner or later he would get to where he needed to be. Lucien checked his watch. He didn't have to meet Hermione for another hour and a half anyway. He continued his trudge across the soft petals. He didn't want to find out what happened if he didn't follow Nathan's advice.

"_Mierda."_

After what seemed like forever he finally saw his destination. At least he saw more of it than he had before. He could make out several towers now and if he _really_ squinted he could catch the twinkle of light in one of the lower rooms of one of the towers. He couldn't be sure, though; it was still so far away. _And Nathan expects me to get there by two? Yeah. Right._ He was very disconcerted to find out that he needed to meet Hermione very soon.

That's when he looked straight in front of him. There was a fork in the road. The castle, for that is what it looked like now, was straight ahead. All he could do for a few seconds was glare until he finally snapped. He pointed an accusatory finger at it yelling, "Ok, this is not cool now!"

Lucien calmed himself with a few deep breaths. He could do this. _It's just a stupid road. I can deal with a frickin road._

Lucien figured he should just suck it up and pick a way. Still feeling a little upset and a little embarrassed -He had yelled at a road after all.- he started walking right.

He nearly fell over when he head a little voice say, "No. No! Not that way. Not that way!" The first sentence was a normal voice range but the second time it sounded like a shout. The voice was so quiet he almost missed it.

Lucien whirled around to try to find the source. He couldn't see anything. Shrugging, deciding to go with the flow, he started walking left only to be stopped by a deep, crackling voice, "Do not trod that road!"

Lucien threw his hands in the air in frustration. He had a desperate need to know what was going on. He kept his ears out for the voice again as he walked right, and sure enough he heard a tiny voice say, "No. No!" It seemed to be coming from all around him. Finally he looked down. And continued to look. Then he started to stare. What he thought were petals were actually tiny flowers. Flowers with the faces of babies. Flowers that were talking to him.

"Hi," he said. _What else do you say to talking flowers? "Which way to the hash smoking bug? He owes me a toke?" _Lucien thought absently to himself.

"Hello. Hello!" they cried back to him. The only flowers that he could see the faces on were the ones right in front of him. Their mouths were moving at the same time but he could only hear one voice. "We helped you. We helped you!"

Lucien scratched his head and tried to think of a reasonable way around this situation. Finding none, he gave in. He squatted down so he could be closer to the strange plants. "Well, thanks for that. What did you save me from, by the way?"

"That way is ugly. That way is ugly!" They started shuddering and shouting, "Bad. Bad!" They said it over and over again like a chant. Then slowly, like a wave, the flowers around him started vibrating only to recede back into stillness.

"Alright. Alright, I won't go right." Lucien said, trying to placate them. "But why didn't you want me to go the other way? I have somewhere I really need to be, guys."

"Not us. Not us!" they yelled angrily.

For a moment Lucien sat confused until he saw they were looking above his head. He stood and looked up. All he saw were the overhanging branches of the tree that was sitting at the base of the fork. Lucien looked the tree up and down to find a boulder at the bottom of it. A few seconds later he did a double take to look at the center of the tree's trunk.

The first thing that ran through Lucien's mind was that it was strange to see a tree like this growing in a spring time forest. One time he had asked Angel to plant a tree like this in the yard. Lucien had always thought it was pretty. He always thought this kind of tree felt "safe." Angel had told him that it only grew in snow. The second thing that ran through his mind was that the tree was glaring at him. There were three knots in the trunk. They formed a mouth and two eyes that were looking at him steadily.

"Uh... Howdy." he said while thinking, _Omigod. It's a fucking Ent._

"Hello, Child," replied the tree in a kind voice. The way he/it had said "child" made Lucien think that the word should be capitalized, like it was a title.

Lucien shrugged it off and said as respectfully as he could, "I'm sorry, but why can't I go that way?" He paused and added, "Sir."

The tree's branches waved back and forth and the ground around Lucien quaked. If he hadn't moved into a crouched stance that Pedro had taught him, Lucien would have fallen.

In a big booming voice the tree answered, "The path in which the Golden Kan wish you to travel holds death."

"Death…The golden – huh?!"

"The Golden Kan, Child. Those are the flowers you are so fond of speaking to." The tree looked down in disdain at the tiny flowers, before turning back to Lucien with kind eyes, "I am Nosys."

"Greetings, Nosys," Lucien replied humbly as he bowed once. Without realizing it he started to speak in a voice he reserved for his parent's more important business partner's. He knew he could sound older if he wanted to. "I'm sorry if I seem impudent, but like I said before, it is very important that I get to where I need to be. I cannot go either way on the cross road, I know I can't go back, so may I have your wisdom on the best course of action?" Lucien felt that it seemed the best choice of words for the situation.

Again a wind seemed to blow across them. Nosys's branches trembled lightly. The Kan fluttered again. This seemed quieter than last time, like they were laughing. Lucien's theory was confirmed by The Kan giggling. _Great, _Lucien thought. _I'm getting mocked by foliage._

"Neither The Kan nor I said you could not choose," said Nosys in what appeared to be a smile.

"But you told me not to go that way." Lucien pointed left.

"Yes, Child, but I did not say you could not travel the other path."

Lucien nodded and looked down at The Golden Kan, realization dawning. "And you guys want me to travel the other path that way?" He pointed right as they smiled up at him. He blew air through his lips in frustration. _If I'm late, Hermosa will probably flay me._ She didn't seem like the kind of person who liked to be kept waiting. _I bet she could get me through this._

Lucien was starting to feel sore. He had been walking for a while. Looking around the area for something to sit on, he decided the boulder at the base of the tree's roots seemed to be the safest choice. Sighing deep, Lucien tried to sit as carefully as possible.

"What the deuces!? Get off of me!"

Lucien immediately jumped to his feet. He stared wide-eyed at the seemingly innocent boulder that was glaring up at him. _That is Salvador Dali surreal._

"What is the matter with you, human-child?" asked the rock in the same rough gravely voice before. He sounded more amused than miffed, although, Lucien had a feeling that gruff tone never fully left the rock's voice. "Haven't you ever seen a Najuve before?

"Um, let me think- NO!" As polite as Lucien had been taught to be, this was almost too much.

"No need for alarm, Child," said Nosys in a calm voice that rumbled through Lucien's chest. "This is my friend and long time debating companion, Geyoffrey."

"And he's called a Najuve?" He momentarily forgot that it was rude to speak about someone as if he wasn't there.

"Bwahahahaha!" The rock was laughing at him.

It took all of Lucien's will power not to scowl. He did however put his hands on his hips. Carlos, when he chose to speak at all, called the stance his Superman pose. "I amuse you?"

"Yes, boy! BWAHAHAHAHA!"

Despite Lucien's personal promise of decorum, he was about to move in to kick the annoying thing. Luckily, he was stalled by Nosys's voice. "Pay no mind to Geoff, Child. He harbors a cruel sense of humor." Nosys glared down at Geoff before continuing. "He, unlike the Golden Kan and myself, is not a magical being in and of himself. My friend here was turned into a rock by an evil being. Before that, he was a normal human."

Lucien smirked. "What'dya do? Turn down an evil sorceress or something?"

"Priestess. Priestess!" the Kan cried with a giggle.

Lucien cackled viciously. "Nice one, George. Real ladies man."

"I'll have you know she tried to seduce me! And my name is Geoffrey!"

"All of which is beside the point," Nosys interrupted yet again. "The Time has come for you to Choose, Child."

Lucien froze_. Why does that sound way too ominous for my comfort level? _

A/N This will PROBABLY be my last post for a while. I say probably because, again, things don't always work out how I plan. I'll be in California for a while, and I haven't prewritten anything yet. I know what's going to happen next, I just don't know how to put it in story form. Sorry.

As always, please review. If I don't get reviews, I don't think people are interested and that scares my plot bunnies away. Hope you enjoyed this installment. Ta


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